


War Games

by xCastielsGirlx



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Angst, Background Relationships, Blood and Gore, Humor, Multi, Swearing, reference to attempted suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-01-19 03:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1453372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xCastielsGirlx/pseuds/xCastielsGirlx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Good afternoon everyone! And welcome to the reaping of the Seventy-Fourth Annual Hunger Games!” her enthusiasm was lost on the people of twelve, but she continued nevertheless, briefing them on how the Hunger Games came to be. </p><p>“Samuel Winchester!”<br/>Dean was frozen to the spot- he was almost certain his heart had stopped, but he watched with some form of detachment as Sam shakily stepped forward- the back of his shirt was untucked, making a little duck tail. Before he realised what he was doing, Dean had sprinted out from the barrier and shoved Sam behind him.<br/>“I VOLUNTEER! I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!” he yelled, loud and clear- but with a slight hysterical edge to his voice- so that everyone could hear. </p><p>When Dean takes Sam's place at the 74th Hunger Games, he treats it as a death sentence, but Sam makes him promise to return, just after he's promised his best friend's mother that he'll keep her daughter safe. </p><p>But Dean didn't count on gaining allies, and the boy from District Eight may be of more use to him than Dean originally thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Dean woke up, the other side of the bed was cold. His fingers automatically stretched out in search of his little brother, and found nothing but the scratchy material of the mattress cover, which was slightly indented from his brother’s missing weight. Apple green eyes snapped open in a slight panic, and his hand slid under his pillow to withdraw the knife that was hidden underneath. With a graceful movement that shouldn’t have been able to have been achieved by someone who’d just woken up, Dean rose into an upright position, knife in front of him in one hand whilst he looked desperately around the room. At long last, he found his little brother at the stove making a cup of tea as his father slept in his bed on the opposite side of the room, his face relaxed and younger looking as he slumbered. Dean sighed and ran a hand down his freckled face before turning to look at his younger brother.

“Mornin’ Sammy,” he greeted, and Sam turned to look at Dean, a nervous smile on his face as he brought him a cup of tea- well, it was makeshift tea from pine needles, but as Sam would say- it was the thought that counted. Sam was shorter than Dean by almost a whole foot- and whereas Dean had taken after his mother with his ashy blond hair and green eyes, it was clear that Sam had taken after John, with dark eyes, and a scraggly mop of dark brown hair.

“Morning Dean,” Sam replied a little tensely. Dean couldn’t blame his little brother at all. It was the day of the reaping. This was the day where all through Panem, two children between the age of twelve and eighteen were chosen to go to the capitol, and play a life-or-death game- The Hunger Games. Each district offered up two tributes- a male and a female- who were then carted off to the capitol with their mentor and escort. District Twelve’s mentor was an older man by the name of Bobby Singer, who- after he won the second quarter quell- resorted to drink; most likely to drown out the painful memories. Dean shook his head and accepted the hot cup, and downing half of the scalding liquid in one.

“What time is it?” Dean groaned, looking around for the clock. Sam found it just a moment before Dean.

“Just coming up to eleven. I’ll get the bath started,” Sam offered, and Dean smiled slightly at his younger brother as he began bustling around and heating some water. Whilst Sam was doing this, Dean slipped out of bed, pulling on a pair of leather trousers and a worn shirt.

“You off out?” Sam asked, still preparing the bath. Dean grunted in return, and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Don’t bother going into the woods- there won’t be enough time. How about you go trade the game from yesterday?” Sam suggested, and Dean just gave him a look that had Sam chuckling.

“Seriously Dean, I don’t want old Cray gettin’ to you on a reaping day,” underneath the joke, Dean could tell it was a serious worry.

“Don’t worry, Sammy- I’m gunna go see Jo,” Dean explained, tying his shoes, slipping on his mother’s old hunting jacket and then tossing the bag of yesterday’s hunt over his shoulder.

“Here- see if you can anything from trading my cheese- and tell her I said hi!” Sam added, placing a large wrapped block of goat’s cheese in to his brother’s hands. After a ruffle of Sam’s hair, Dean exited the house. He travelled the short and familiar path to his best friend’s house, and knocked thrice before an older woman with dirty blond hair answered it.

“Hey Ellen, is Jo in?” Dean asked the woman. Ellen smirked and leaned back from the door.

“Sweetie, Winchester’s at the door for you,” she called, and there was a muffled scuffle in the background. Ellen leant back to Dean and smirked.

“You all set for today?” she asked, and Dean nodded.

“Yes ma’am. Also, Dad wanted me to ask if you and Jo are up for coming to dinner this evening,” Dean stated. Ellen smiled gently.

“Of course. You still got some of that pheasant from the yesterday?” Ellen asked as Jo stumbled around in the background, hopping on one spot to get a shoe on. There were many things about Ellen Harvelle that Dean respected- the list went on for days- and one of them was just how much of a great pie she could make out of literally anything. In response, Dean held up his game bag.

“I was gunna trade it at the hob, but if you’re gunna be makin’ a pie then by all means, take the pheasant.” Dean chuckled, and Ellen grinned in return, taking the bag from Dean and rummaging inside for the pheasant. She eventually pulled it out and weighed it in her hands.

“Good catch, Winchester,” she praised, when Jo appeared at her side.

“Don’t forget I was there too, mom,” the blond girl told her mother, and Ellen rolled her eyes.

“Of course sweetheart. You two stay out of trouble alright?” she warned, kissing Jo on the cheek before letting the two go and closing the door.

“Sam says hi, by the way,” Dean told her, and Jo smiled slightly, her head tilting back, eyes closing to absorb the sunlight on her freckled face.

“How’s Sam doing lately?” Jo asked, and Dean’s steps faltered slightly. It’d only been a few months since Sam had tried to swallow a load of pills. Needless to say, Dean had hunted down the person who supplied them to his little brother and personally made sure that they would fear the very steps Dean had walked in.

“He’s doing better. Dad’s doing a good job looking after him,” Dean replied, but he avoided Jo’s stern gaze. As the uncomfortable silence drew on, Dean searched for something to change the subject to. Fortunately, Jo had already come up with one.

“So, today’s the reaping- how’re you feeling?” Jo quizzed, and Dean just sighed roughly. He’d taken tesserae a few times over the years from when he couldn’t hunt as much, or the haul wasn’t as good, so the reality that there are more than ten slips of paper with his name on rattled him. However, he was adamant that Sam not take any tesserae, so this year, there was only one slip with the name ‘Samuel Winchester’ on it- this thought relaxed him slightly.

“The odds are most definitely in my favour,” he replied in a sarcastic Capitol accent, which made Jo giggle slightly. Dean smiled along with her as they walked along to the Hob- the black market that was set up in an old factory- to trade his game and Sam’s goat’s cheese.

“What about you- how’re you feelin’?” Dean asked as they entered the bustling market place. Jo shrugged slightly and shoved her hands in her trouser pockets.

“No more different than any other reaping day, to be honest,” Jo replies. Because Jo was an only child, she had little reason for taking tesserae, especially as Ellen ran the local pub- for those rich enough to have such a luxury. Bobby Singer was a regular patron, and had come to accept Dean, Jo, and Sam as annoying nieces and nephews.  
The two of them wove in and out of the stalls, trading a bit of meat here and there for other essentials; they managed to swap the cheese – a delicacy in twelve- for a large carton of strawberries, which they would then be able to sell to the mayor and make some more money. They made their way up to the mayor’s house and knocked on the front door. It opened to reveal a short, blond girl in a soft orange dress, her hair tied up in a silk ribbon.

“Hey Jess, is your dad home?” Dean asked, whilst Jo stared with some sort of contempt at the ribbon-laced hair.

“Yeah, I’ll just go get him,” she replied, and disappeared to go find him. Jessica Moore was in the same year as Sam and- like Dean’s little brother- only had one slip with her name on it for the reaping. Sometimes Dean liked to think that Sam had a crush on the girl, seeing as whenever they spoke, Sam seemed to get flustered. He was just musing over this, when Jo elbowed him.

“So this is the Jess that Sam has a crush on, eh?” she asked, and Dean chuckled at the fact it seemed to be obvious to everyone but Sam and Jessica. After a few moments, the mayor of District Twelve came to the door and smiled when he saw both Dean and Jo.

“Ah, how are my favourite hunters doing this morning?” he asked with a good nature, but underneath, Dean saw the nerves showing through, and he couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the man.

“We’ve got a large carton of strawberries,” Jo told him, bringing them out to show the mayor, who seemed pleased.

“Thank you so much! How much do you want for them?” he reaches into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, flicking through it. They charged him just over the rate they would have paid, but the mayor payed extra.

“I wish you both the best of luck today,” he said with a grimace, before they parted ways. Both Jo and Dean split the cash equally before they realised the time.

“Ah, crap- better get going back- Sam’s prepared the bath and everything,” Dean explained to Jo, who just smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

“I’ll see you later,” Jo told him, before they both dashed off in opposite directions. When Dean entered his house, John yelled at him from the kitchen.

“Where have you been?” he called, and Dean sighed roughly.

“I was trading around town- got some supplies and money,” Dean explained, placing his haul on the table, and placed the money in a jar in a cupboard above the kitchen sink. John huffed slightly and pushed him towards the bathroom.

“Well hurry up and take a bath- I don’t want you stinkin’ up my outfit,” he replied with a dry humour; it was then that Dean’s eyes caught the outfit that was laid across the closed toilet lid. One of his father’s best shirts, trousers and ties lay across it. The shirt was slightly faded, but still good, and the tie was a dark green- obviously it had been picked out by John to match the colour of his eyes.

“Alright, alright- stop pushing,” he replied with a chuckle, and closed the bathroom door before stripping himself of his clothes and folding them into a neat pile. As he slipped into the warm bath, a sigh escaped his lips, and he soaked himself for a few minutes, letting the tension drain out of him. He grabbed the sponge and started to scrub yesterday’s hunting grime from his body and after ten minutes he was done. He pulled on a pair of underpants and walked forward to claim the garments. Within three minutes he was out of the bathroom and had placed his clothes in his closet neatly, his tie dangling, useless around his neck. John noticed this and grunted.

“C’mere,” he told Dean, who walked forward with caution. After their mother’s death whilst giving birth to Sam, John had slipped into a depressed stupor, hardly doing anything, barely leaving bed- this left Dean to raise Sam on his own- until he met Ellen on one rainy evening where he couldn’t get enough food for Sam. Ellen ushered them both inside The Roadhouse –her pub- and gave them a warm stew, and warmed some milk for Sam. With a promise from Ellen to help look after Sam, Dean was able to hunt and pay Ellen back with his game. When Ellen asked what had brought about their state, the woman had promptly marched over to their house, and slapped some sense into John- but since then Dean hadn’t trusted his father all that much. John sighed and turned Dean around to face a mirror whilst he tied his son’s tie from behind.

“There we go; you look very handsome, son,” John told Dean, who quirked a smile. Sam then walked up beside him, dressed in Dean’s old trousers that had to be hemmed quite a bit to fit. He was also wearing one of Dean’s old blue dress shirts. He hadn’t tucked it in properly at the back, so it had formed a little duck-tail. Dean rolled his eyes and turned his brother around on the spot.

“Tuck in your tail little duck,” Dean stated, and Sam sighed.

“I’m not a duck- I am a majestic moose!” he replied, and Dean chuckled slightly.

“Whatever you say Sammy,” Dean replied, ruffling his little brother’s hair.

“Hey! You’re messing my hair up! Dad!” Sam cried, and John chuckled slightly.

“Dean, stop teasing Sam,” he told Dean, who smiled slightly. It sent a pang to his heart; the moments where they acted like a normal, functioning family were far and few between, but it didn’t stop it from hurting slightly. The smiles vanished from everybody’s faces, however, when the local bell sounded, telling them they had to make their way towards the center, where the reaping would take place. Dean swallowed, and Sam grabbed both his and John’s hands.

“Oh, Ellen’s making a pie for afterwards- I gave her a pheasant,” Dean told John, who smiled and nodded.

“Ellen’s pies are delicious,” he sighed as the three of them made their way towards the town center. Eventually, John had to leave them, and both Dean and Sam needed to be separated into their age categories. Before Sam could go, however, Dean grabbed his hand and crouched down to his height.

“When the reaping’s over, stay where you are and I’ll come and collect you, okay?” he told Sam, who nodded.

“Okay Dean,” he answered, and the two smiled at each other before being separated. They passed through a turnstile and had their hands printed and names checked off. Dean didn’t keep his eye off Sam the whole time. After everyone had assembled, onto the stage walked a woman in a sharp suit- her red hair drawn back into a perfect bun. Her smile seemed strained and she edged away from Bobby slightly, who was on her right hand side and drinking a brown liquid from a bottle. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Good afternoon everyone! And welcome to the reaping of the Seventy-Fourth Annual Hunger Games!” her enthusiasm was lost on the people of twelve, but she continued nevertheless, briefing them on how the Hunger Games came to be. Dean’s eyes scoured the crowd and landed on Jo’s, who decided to mime the speech they all knew by heart with a stupid expression on her face. Dean snickered silently and they both turned to face the front once more. The woman- apparently her name was Naomi Tapping- was breathless with fake excitement, and was approaching one of the large glass balls that held the names of all eligible females of district twelve.

“Ladies first,” she smiled, dipping her hand in and whisking it around before she pulled out a little slip of paper. Her fake smile was back in place as she unfolded it in front of the district.

“The female tribute for District Twelve is… Joanna Harvelle!” she called.  
Dean felt his blood freeze, and he could hear a distant screaming that he recognised as Ellen. Dean’s fists clenched, his nails piercing his palms and drawing blood. Oh, if only he could take her place- but he couldn’t.

“Joanna?” Naomi called, and Jo walked forward, a hard look on her face as she ascended the steps. Ellen was hysterical as she watched her only daughter walk up the steps towards what was surely her death. Eventually, she was knocked out by a peacekeeper, and the place went silent. Naomi then approached the other glass ball that held the names of all male tributes and stuck her hand in. He was so numbed by the thought that Jo would be off to the Capitol that he almost missed the name being called for the male tributes.

“Samuel Winchester!”

Dean was frozen to the spot- he was almost certain his heart had stopped, but he watched with some form of detachment as Sam shakily stepped forward- the back of his shirt was untucked, making a little duck tail. Before he realised what he was doing, Dean had sprinted out from the barrier and shoved Sam behind him.

“I VOLUNTEER! I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!” he yelled, loud and clear- but with a slight hysterical edge to his voice- so that everyone could hear. He kept shoving Sam behind him as if scared that the peacekeepers would take him away even after he had stepped forward as a volunteer. The whole square was silent, not even Naomi made a sound. Volunteering in District Twelve was not something that had happened since the first few Games. Naomi looked a bit flustered by the volunteering.

“W-well we usually have a system-”

“What does it matter- just let him volunteer!” someone from the crowd yelled, and there was a murmur of agreement. Naomi sighed and nodded.

“Come on up then,” she told Dean, who tried to move, but was hindered by Sam hugging his waist.

“No! You can’t go!” he cried. Dean was at the brink of breaking down himself, but he had to appear strong.

“Sam! Let go,” he ordered, and Sam leant back as though he had been burnt- Dean had only talked to him like this once, and that was when he had been fuming about the younger boy’s suicide attempt. John had made his way out into the square and taken Sam away, who was staring back at his brother with tear-filled eyes. Dean faced the podium and walked up, fists clenched at his side. He took his place next to Jo, who was stoic as he was. Naomi faced him and smiled once more.

“So what’s your name then sweetheart,” she asked, and Dean looked her dead in the eyes. Green clashed with a grey-blue.

“Dean Winchester.” He stated, before turning back to look at the crowd. Naomi gasped.

“Well, I’ll bet my suit that Samuel was your little brother there. How courageous you are,” she explained, facing back to the audience with a smile.

“So there we have it; your tributes for District Twelve; Joanna Harvelle and Dean Winchester! Please put your hands together for them!” she announced. But the crowd in the square was deadly silent. It was Bobby that started it. From his place by Naomi’s side, he placed his three middle fingers from his left hand to his lips, and then raised them into the air in a form of salute. One by one, each member in the square repeated this action, and both Dean and Jo returned it. After this, they were taken to the justice building where they were allowed visitors for their final goodbyes. Jo and Dean were taken to separate rooms, where they waited for their visitors. Dean sat on the edge of a plush velvet chair, looking out to the street below. When the door opened, he saw who he expected. Both John and Sam had come to visit him. Sam was bordering hysterical, clutching to Dean like a lifeline.

“You have to win this, Dean. You have to come back!” he sobbed into his brother’s shirt, covering it with a slight trail of snot. Dean crouched down and wrapped his arms around Sam’s shoulders, bringing him closer.

“I will, Sammy,” he whispered into his brother’s hair. He then looked up to his father.

“You can’t go again. Not like you did after Mom,” he told his father, who nodded slightly, looking pale.

“If you have trouble- try selling some of Sam’s cheese. Trade it in the Hob. I’m sure Ellen wouldn’t mind looking after you.” He told John, who just nodded again. Sam was still sobbing and clutching to him. John approached where the two were crouched, and went down to their level, holding out a charm bracelet to Dean.

“It was your mother’s. You don’t have a token,” John tried to explain, before a tear fell from his left eye and disappeared into his scruff of a beard. Dean nodded and allowed John to clasp it around his wrist before his father went to hug them both. However, their time was soon up, and they had to leave. Sam had now gone into hysterics.

“DON’T LEAVE ME, DEAN!” he screamed, tears running down his face. Dean rushed forward, grabbing Sam’s hand as he was pulled out.

“I won’t! I promise! I’ll come back I swear!” he gasped, now realising tears were trailing down both cheeks. His chest was heaving, and he grabbed fistfuls of his hair, before kicking a chair over. It was then that the door opened again. Dean really hadn’t been expecting any other visitors outside of his family, but there stood Ellen, who was just about as much of a wreck as Dean was. Dean was about to open his mouth when Ellen cut him off.

“I’ll look after them, I promise.” She told him, trying to keep it together.

“I’m so sorry about Jo,” he choked, and Ellen pulled him into a hug.

“I’ll make sure we’re allies. I’ll protect her as best I can I swear it, Ellen!” he whispered, and Ellen clutched him tighter.

“I’ll take your word on that, Winchester,” she chuckled wetly, and Dean tried to return the sentiment. Ellen’s eyes caught the bracelet that Dean was wearing.

“Your token, huh?” she asked, trying to change the subject. Dean nodded, and the door opened- Ellen’s time was up.

“Don’t forget to bake the pie tonight!” Dean called- attempting a joke- as she was being ushered out. Ellen laughed until she sobbed. Dean was absolutely certain that he wouldn’t be having any more visitors, but that wasn’t the case as the door opened one final time, and in rushed Jessica Moore. His arms were soon full of ribbons, dress and blond hair as the young girl practically tackled him in a hug.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid,” Jessica whispered, and Dean felt a warm rush of affection wash through him for the younger girl.

“Thanks,” he whispered, and Jessica pulled away, somehow managing to maintain a weak smile, before pushing a warm bag into his hand.

“Freshly made strawberry muffins for you and Jo,” she told him, her voice cracking.

“Thanks so much for everything, Dean Winchester,” she told him, before leaving the room before the time was up; her shoulders were shaking from suppressed sobs. Dean honestly hadn’t realised how much of an effect he’d had on the people in District Twelve. It was soon time to be boarding the train to the capitol; a squad of peacekeepers were sent to escort them to the station, but even they were doing it half-heartedly. Dean had traded with many of them in the past, and they had honestly never felt any animosity towards the young man who had provided them with meat for a warm stew when the market was low, so it was with a heavy heart that they escorted him to the train station. He was met with Jo halfway, and held out a muffin to her.

“Strawberry- from the mayor’s wife,” explained, and Jo took it with a weak smile. She bit into it, savouring the taste that exploded across her tongue.

“They’re really good- has this been her therapy?” Jo asked lightly, and Dean nodded. After the second Quarter Quell, the mayor’s wife had fallen ill that left her bedridden. It was the sort of illness that had affected John when Mary had died. However, like John, she was getting better- cooking to take her mind off things. Her pies rivalled Ellen’s.  
As they arrived at the station, the camera crews swarmed them. All Dean and Jo did for them, however, was ignore them and keep on eating their muffins. Interviewers were shouting questions at them, but all went ignored. Jo stepped onto the train and entered the compartment, but Dean had other ideas. He stood in the train doorway, placed his muffin down on the side table next to the entrance and faced the crowd. They had fallen silent. Dean swallowed a couple of times before pasting a grin on his face.

“This year, District Twelve _will_ have a victor!” he shouted, punching his fist into the air. The fading sun glinted off the silver of his bracelet, and he turned his back on the cheering camera crews as the train doors slid shut.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I was late with this one, but issues came up with the family- but here it is! I hope you enjoy!

Jo looked shocked when Dean entered the main compartment- Bobby was barely sober, and Naomi had a slight smile on her face, a plate of juicy chicken in front of her.

“Well, at least it’s good to know that the tributes of twelve will put up a fight this year,” she said, and Jo glared at her slightly, obviously reminded of the fact that the two tributes last year had pretty much given up the will to live by the time they had gotten to the Capitol- it was clear by the interviews with Lilith Stone – the Interviewer of the Hunger Games- that they didn’t think that they’d stand much of a chance. However, the male tribute- Frank- had lasted until the final eight before being slaughtered by the careers.

“Why wouldn’t we want to fight?” Dean asked, also clearly annoyed by her tone. Naomi sighed and scrubbed a hand down her face, looking almost exhausted. Dean frowns at this.

“As you both know, Robert here will be your mentor for the games- he is responsible for your sponsors and everything else. However, seeing as he is barely sober-” at this, Naomi glared at Bobby, who sneered at the name ‘Robert’ “- I wish you the best of luck,” she slammed a napkin down that she had been using to wipe her lips and left the compartment. Dean and Jo both looked towards Bobby.

“Who’d have thought I’d be mentorin’ you two idjits in the arena,” he sighed, dragging himself up from his slouched position, supporting himself on another bottle of brown alcohol. Dean smirked sarcastically, and Jo sighed.

“So what advice do you have for us?” Dean asked, ready to get down to business. At this, Bobby raised an eyebrow.

“Stay alive,” he deadpanned. This enraged Dean, and he grabbed the bottle of alcohol from Bobby’s hands and threw it out of the nearby window. It hit the side of the train and the glass shards glinted in the dying sunlight. Bobby reached for another bottle, but Jo stabbed a cheese knife between the fingers of his outstretched hand.

“Just imagine what my mother would do if you failed to mentor me,” she snarled, and Bobby eyed them both warily.

“Dammit, girl, you’re gunna give me a heart attack!” he snapped at her, pushing the bottle away. Dean raised his eyebrows at this, and Bobby sat up, fully straight.

“So you’re willing to fight; that’s good- but do either of you have any special skills. At all?” he asked them both. Instantly, Dean pointed out one of Jo’s most valuable assets.

“Jo can handle a knife better than you can a liquor bottle,” Dean explained to Bobby, who smiled slightly, and Jo instantly countered with:

“Dean can make a weapon out of pretty much anything.” Bobby nodded at that.

“That’s good- when you get to the training centre, try not to reveal those skills- save it for your fifteen minutes with the Game Makers,” he replied, and they both nodded, leaning forward, eager for more information.

“That’s all I’m gunna tell you for this evening. Let me sober up properly and we’ll get you started tomorrow,” he told them. His lack of regard for their safety and nonchalance riled Dean and Jo, but they didn't let it show because it was a damn sight better than not having a mentor in the first place. Dean could only wonder how bad it was for the others before them- to have Bobby barely sober and tell them nothing of their upcoming death sentence. It made Dean’s stomach boil with rage, but he pushed it down- it would be useful in the arena, he thought. A few moments later, Naomi shuffled back in; her hair still perfectly in place, ready for the reaping re-runs on television. Jo asked for a piece of paper and a pencil, whilst Dean sat with a cup of black coffee in front of him. It occurred to him that one of them was going to have to die in the arena, and so he clenched the handle of his mug tighter. The television blared to life and the Capitol seal flared across the screen before it cut to Lilith, smiling in a beautiful white summer dress towards the audience. She introduced the show, and it cut to the VTs of the Reaping’s earlier that day. Dean watched with reverence, some names sliding over his head, but he kept a sharp eye on District’s One and Two, seeing as they would usually produce the career packs. Volunteers were common in the first two districts, so there was no surprise from Lilith when there was a flood of volunteers coming from One and Two.

The first female is a volunteer from District One- Bela Talbot- she had a Capitol accent, and this momentarily threw Dean off, but then the male tribute was reaped, and Dean frowned; it was a younger boy- about thirteen, but he had a superior air about him. Dean noticed Jo scribble down the name ‘Zachariah’.

Dean wanted to throw up at District Two’s volunteers.

Siblings. Uriel was the male tribute, and he was built like a brick house with dark skin. His sister, Raphael, had an athlete’s form; a toned stomach and muscled arms. Jo noted down ‘Dangerous’ next to those two Tributes.

With District Three, the only notable feature about the two tributes was that the male – Ash- had a mullet and that the female – Charlie- had to tear herself away from a pleading young girl who Dean assumed was her best friend. The district four tributes didn't even leave a dent on Dean’s memory, and Dean leays over to see the names ‘Garth’ an ‘Ava’ scrawled down hastily, as if they weren’t even that important.

District Five left a little impact. The female tribute walked like a queen, head raised, shoulders back, and her eyes flickered across the male side of the crowd, most likely already planning the demise of her fellow tribute. However, Dean realised that once the male tribute was called, her eyes widened and a flicker of panic crossed her face. The male tribute was a bouncy young man, with golden hair and caramel eyes; he was sucking on a lollipop, grinning at his predicament. He good-naturedly smacked the female’s arse- she then grabbed his wrist and bends it back quite far. The male chuckled and she let go, glaring daggers at him whilst he rubbed his wrist sheepishly. Kali and Gabriel.

District Six’s tributes were only just of reaping age. The female- Baby- walked up the stage, not giving anything away. She was on the older end of the Reaping-age spectrum coming up to eighteen. Her hair was short-cropped and she had a few piercings in her ear; the combat boots over her black leather trousers gave her the aura that she shouldn’t be crossed. The male, Teller, had dark hair that flopped across his face, he only just became eligible for reaping a few months prior, apparently, and he was clearly panicked. His movements were jerky and he seemed to flicker around. Eventually, Baby rolled her eyes, and a leather clad hand connected to a dark-skinned hand as she helped him onto stage. They continued holding hands, and Lilith’s commentary about the two was very sweet.

District Seven pulled up two lethal looking tributes. Anna Milton was grinning at the audience, who cheered her on, and Jake Talley volunteered to a round of cheering and whooping’s. Dean was starting to get nervous now, but Jo just continued to note down the victors and her assessment of them. Anna and Jake were marked as ‘Dangerous’.

Out of all the Districts so far, nobody had caught Dean’s eye like the male tribute from Eight. First of all, a young girl named Jody was called, and he saw her walking up with a resigned sigh to look around the crowd. When the male was called, Dean watched him stumble out of the crowd. He was dressed in an outfit no different from Dean’s, but with a blue tie. And even through the cameras, he could tell that his eyes were a catching shade of blue. Something pulled in his stomach as he saw the boy- who seemed to be a year younger than him- climb the steps, his sleeves too long for his arms. He squinted out at the crowd, and Jody placed a hand on his shoulder. Castiel.  Lilith picked up on Castiel’s sleeves, and squealed a little on how adorable it looked. Dean felt momentarily ill.

When District Nine’s tributes were called, Dean was still in a stupor about Castiel, and only just caught the names Becky Rosen and Rufus Turner. He shook his head to see that they had most likely just come of reaping age, and a stab of pity ran through him. The strawberry muffin threatened to make reappearance, when he saw that Becky had to tear herself away from two younger siblings. One tried to run after her, but was then knocked out by a peacekeeper.

Both of District Ten’s Tributes were very noteworthy. Dean frowned at them; the male- Benny- looked quite fit and you could see that he was only just young enough to be reaped. Most people in Twelve began anticipating the day the turned eighteen as they would no longer have to be reaped. The girl- Pamela- was blind, and looked to be about fifteen. Jo marked down Benny to be ‘Dangerous’ and Pamela as ‘Not Threatening’.

Penultimate is District Eleven. Their tributes were amongst those that didn’t make a lasting impact on Dean and Jo, but they took note because it was better to know your opponent than underestimate them. Andy seemed to be disorientated, and Lisa was just a scared young girl.

Finally, it was time to replay District Twelve’s reaping. Lilith made an offhand comment about how sad it was when Ellen became hysterical, and that another young boy had been reaped, when Dean saw himself on the screen, pushing Sam out of the way and yelling that he wanted to volunteer for his brother. He saw the silent hysteria behind his eyes, but his mask had slipped on when he ordered Sam to let go. Lilith gushed about this to the audience, saying how brave he was. At this scene, Dean felt a little homesick. Jo was barely given any notice by Lilith as she was still gushing about Dean and Sam. They then cut to the journeys to the train station. Each Tribute had a different feature. Some were cheering, others crying. Baby and Teller were still holding hands, and she grinned flirtatiously at the crowd, her piercings shining. Garth was waving and being friendly to everyone he met, Anna was blowing kisses whilst Jake just smiled as if he knew everyone’s secrets. Kali was still walking like a queen, her dark hair flowing perfectly down her back and red dress contrasting perfectly with her dark skin. Gabriel was trailing along behind her, still grinning and unwrapping another lollipop- offering one to her and- when she rejected it- one to a young woman who swoons. Dean was almost mopping up every moment Castiel had on screen. He looked nervous and confused, squinting at some people. Jody was very polite to everyone and ushered Castiel along. Just when it was about to finish, there had been no mention of Dean or Jo, which was when there was a cut of them walking stoically toward the train. Jo walked along, still eating her muffin, whereas Dean placed his down and turned to look at the crowd. His last moment before the cameras is repeated, and the crowd cheered once more, this time accompanied by Lilith, who was more than excited at the prospect of the year's games.

Naomi switched off the television and turned to Jo and Dean.

“Well, you’ve both made a lasting impression- which is good. This could get you sponsors, and you need those.” Naomi told them. They both nodded automatically. Naomi then stood up.

“Well, you two should eat some dinner. Then we’ll get you shown to your compartments.” She announced. Dean and Jo both moved from the comfortable sofa to the dining table. Bobby followed and soon a buffet was set before them. Dean, who had never seen so much food in his life, was confused on what to go for first, but eventually grabbed a large slice of game pie, mashed potatoes and an assortment of vegetables. The pie was very rich, and Dean found himself moaning in content as he finished it off with a forkful of creamy mash.

“Thif if fo delifo’uf,” Dean complimented through seconds, and Naomi cringed at his manners. Jo, however, looked amused.

“What was that?” she asked, having finished a slice of rare steak. Dean struggled to swallow, and chugged down some orange squash.

“I said ‘this is delicious’. Seriously, dude. My compliments go to the chef!” he exclaimed. Soon enough, the main course was cleared away, and once more, Dean dove straight for the pie, pouring sweetened cream over the hardened crust. He groaned once more as the sweet and sharp taste of cherries poured over his tongue and down his throat. Naomi rolled her eyes and placed her glass of wine down.

“Well, I’m going to retire for the evening. Robert will show you to your compartments,” she told them before standing and disappearing. Dean looked over to Bobby, who was passed out.

“Great help he’s gonna be,” Dean told Jo roughly. She smiled weakly at him. Dean suddenly felt guilty that he hadn’t checked on how Jo was doing.

“How’re you holding up?” he asked, and Jo sighed, rubbing a hand down her face.

“I honestly don’t know; how’re we going to survive this arena. I mean, I’m not going to be able to kill you-”

“Or me you.” Dean cut in. It was the first time they had approached the subject that had so obviously been on their minds. The two of them sat in the quiet for a while, musing this over. Dean glanced to Bobby, who was snoring loudly.

“We’ll be allies, no question,” Dean told her, and Jo nodded.

“Of course. Then, if we’re the last two standing we battle it out fair and square. May the best man win.” She replied. Dean’s eyes widened. Yes, he had promised Sam he would return, but he didn’t think he’d be able to kill Jo.

“I promised Ellen I’d protect you,” he told her, and Jo snorted.

“Scared of breaking a promise to my mom?” she asked, and Dean grew angry at the taunt.

“Dammit, Jo! You’re like a sister to me! I’d never be able to live with myself if I killed you!” he snapped, and Jo’s face darkened.

“Oh, what, and you think I’m so heartless that I’d be able to live with myself if I took you out?” Jo barked back.

“You’ve got a life back at Twelve!”

“Oh please, I was the freak at school with a knife collection, and you know that! What about Sam, huh? _!_ Are you just gonna leave him with John? After what happened with Mary? _!_ ”

_CRASH_

Jo jumped and looked to see that Dean’s hand had smashed through one of the train’s windows, and she instantly felt bad about the taunt with Dean’s mother.

“Dean- I-”

“Don’t, Jo. Just… go find your compartment. I’ll see you in the morning,” he replied. Frozen to the spot, Jo didn’t move until Dean glared at her, and when she moved, it wasn’t towards her compartment, but towards Dean. She gently grabbed his hand, and started pulling the glass shards from his hand. Dean winced on occasion, but afterwards let Jo pour a white alcohol over the cuts. He drew in a sharp breath, and Jo rolled her eyes.

“Baby,” she muttered, and Dean looked at her with a slight smirk on his features; all was forgiven.

The next morning, Dean woke up slightly disorientated at where he was. The train rattled beneath him, and his hand instinctively went under his pillow when he couldn’t feel the heat of Sam next to him. As his hands caressed the silk sheets, Dean remembered what had happened. He was on a luxury train towards the Capitol to take place in the Hunger Games. A groan escaped his lips, and he sat up, head spinning. The first thing on his mind was ‘water’, so he swung his legs off the bed, and slid open the door to the train’s main compartment. He could tell even without a clock that it was early morning- just after dawn- and he made his way to where he remembered the dining cart to be. As he arrived, he saw Jo already sat cross-legged on the plush sofa, notes in front of her, a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs balancing precariously on her left knee.

“Mornin’,” Dean greeted, his voice scratchy. Jo just lifted her right hand in greeting, so Dean walked over to the table to pour himself a large glass of water. He gulped half of it down quickly before leaving the rest for later.

“What you up to?” Dean asked, looking over Jo’s shoulder and stealing a rasher of bacon from her plate. In retaliation, Jo slapped Dean with her notepad, and he smirked in return, the bacon dangling from between his teeth.

“I’m assessing the most likely threats for the arena,” she explained, and Dean vaulted over the back of the sofa, landing next to her. The plate of bacon and eggs wobbled on her knee, and were about to fall off before Jo caught it and placed it on the coffee table in front of her.

“Yeah? What you got so far?” Dean continued, reading her notes. Jo hummed in return.

“Well, so far the most dangerous I’ve figured out are the girl from One, both tributes from Two, Kali from Five, Anna and Jake, and that Benny guy from Nine,” Jo relayed, and Dean nodded along.

“Any others you wanna add to the Watch List?” Jo asked, poking Dean in the side with her pen. Dean jumped back slightly, and then narrowed his eyes.

“The guy from one looked dodgy- and I want to keep an eye on the guy from Eight as well,” he replied, earning a confused look from Jo.

“Zachariah and Castiel? Dean, they barely made an impact at the Reaping’s; and personally I don’t see this Castiel kid being a threat. He looks as though he doesn’t know where he is half the time, for God’s sake,” Jo insisted, but Dean just turned to stare at her.

“Doesn’t it seem a bit suspicious to you that a volunteer from One is barely of age? Remember Ruby from a few years back? He could be pulling the same move as her!” Dean replied, a little more aggressively than necessary. Ruby Wesson was the 70th Hunger Games Victor. Her tactic was to appear as weak and pathetic as possible so that people would leave her alone; but when it came down to the final four, it seemed that Ruby had a certain penchant for killing, and annihilated the last three from the Career pack in one brutal sweep. Jo just sighed and jotted their names down on the list.

“Plus it seemed like Castiel was pretty strong,” Dean added as an afterthought, which Jo just shrugged at.

“So what’s our plan gunna be?” she asked, turning a page over in the notebook. Dean hummed in thought.

“We’re gonna need some supplies from the Cornucopia. Go for the weapons first and watch each other’s backs whilst the other gets supplies,” Dean told her, and Jo scribbled it down.

“Okay, if there are knives, I’ll grab one and watch your back whilst you get supplies. If not, you’re pretty good in hand-to-hand combat. You watch out for me whilst I grab supplies. We good?” Jo asked, and Dean nodded in return.

“Sounds like a grand old plan,” he commented, taking a sip of water from his glass. The two of them sat in a comfortable silence for a while, Dean eventually going to grab his own breakfast. It was almost midday when Bobby decided to show up, a grimace on his face that Dean would be able to diagnose anywhere. He rolled his eyes and passed Bobby a large glass of water.

“Hungover, huh?” he asked with dry humour, and Bobby returned the sentiment with an empty smile. Jo rolled her eyes from where she was sat on the sofa.

“So Dean and I have formed a plan on what we’re actually going to do when we get into the arena; what training tips do you have for us?” she asked, turning around and leaning over the back of the sofa. Bobby frowned slightly.

“I gotta commend you two for plannin’ far ahead. Usually the tributes rely solely on me,” he explained, sitting down at the table with his glass of water. Dean folded his arms where he stood and Jo scowled once more.

“Well most tributes haven’t had the skills that we have. So: tips for the training area,” Jo demanded, and Bobby smiled at her.

“You two have already got some special skills- that’ll help you. However, I’m bettin’ my beard that you wouldn’t know the first thing about startin’ a fire,” he guessed, and by the looks on Dean and Jo’s faces, he knew he was right.

“My advice to you: spend what time you can at the survival stands. Practise with the weapons later. You got that?” Bobby asked, and the two of them nodded, Jo taking more notes down in her notepad. Bobby looked confused for a moment, but the left it as at that moment, Naomi walked in, suit freshly pressed and with not a hair out of place.

“We’ll be arriving in the Capitol in a few hours. Let’s have lunch, shall we?” she offered, and the four of them sat at the mahogany table, dining on exotic soups, meats and an assortment of side dishes. Dean was halfway through his steak and plum stew when he realised something.

“Jo, where’s your token?” he asked after swallowing a particularly large mouthful of stew and brown rice. Jo looked up to him and smiles slightly, holding up her wrist to show a small silver chain with a small silver tab hanging from the centre. The initials E.H reflected in the afternoon sunlight. Dean nodded slightly and went to eat his stew, only to find that he was no longer hungry. He pushed his dish away, and it was taken away by one of the servers. Naomi looked at him with a concerned frown.

“Is everything alright, Dean?” she asked, and Dean nodded, swallowing a few times.

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” he replied, standing up sharply from the table, and made his way briskly to his compartment, trying to quell the panic that was threatening to consume him. He breathed heavily through his nose, clenching and unclenching his fists. It had been over five years since his last panic attack, and he'd be damned if he let it happen again now. After bursting through his compartment door, and slamming the door to his en-suite open, he locked himself in the bathroom, sliding down the locked door. His breathing was loud to his own ears, and his stomach was clenching along with his fists, churning his lunch. Eventually, it became too much to bear, and he threw up his lunch in the pristine luxury toilet. Tears began to stream down his face as he started to vomit, until there was nothing left and he was left dry-heaving over the toilet. As he stood, he swayed on the spot, but it didn't deter him from stripping off his clothes and entering the shower, morbid thoughts racing through his head. If he was unlucky, he’d be dead in just over a week.

‘ _And since when have I ever been lucky,_ ’ he thought pityingly as he rubbed multi-coloured soaps over his body. When he stepped out of the heat, he was shivering slightly and he grimaced, grabbing a towel and drying himself down. He padded out into his compartment and looked in the draws for a pair of undershorts. After that he fully dressed himself in another shirt and trousers- however he made sure to grab his tie from the mess of clothes on the floor. The messy knot was the best he can manage, and he sat on the edge of his bed, sipping water from a glass when there was a knock on the door. With much effort, Dean made his way over to the door to see Naomi standing there.

“We’ll be arriving in an hour. Are you okay?” she asked him, and Dean frowned.

“Where’s Jo?” he asked, and Naomi sighs.

“She decided to also get a shower when you left. I’m sure you’ll see each other before you depart for your prep teams,” she replied, and Dean nodded in return. Before he could close the door in Naomi’s face, her hand caught his wrist.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Dean?” she asked again, a pleading to her voice. Dean narrowed his eyes at her, and she shrank back slightly.

“You know what, no. I’m not okay. You wanna know why?” he growled, and Naomi winced slightly.

“Well I’ll tell you why. It’s because I’m being carted off for slaughter and am most likely never going to see my baby brother ever again,” Dean snarled, tears slipping down his face at the thought of never being able to see Sam again. Naomi’s eyes widened and she withdrew her hand from Dean’s wrist as though she’d been burned. She swallowed slightly and nodded before slipping away down the corridor. Dean sighed roughly and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up, before turning back to his room and assessing the mess he had made over the last day. Deciding to be a little bit decent, he cleaned his room up, and had just finished remaking the bed when Jo walked in, bringing with her the scent of strawberries. A small smile played on Dean’s lips as he thought of the muffins they had eaten yesterday- the lingering scent of home.

“I heard you yelled at Naomi,” Jo relayed, and even with his back to her, Dean could hear the smile in her voice, and it didn’t stop one of his own crossing his lips.

“Well, somebody ought to tell them how it is,” he replied, finishing making the bed, only for Jo to then go and sit on it.

“Seriously, Jo?” he asked, in a fake annoyed voice. Jo just grinned at him but it then slid off her face.

“What happened at lunch?” she asked him softly, and Dean plonked himself down on the bed next to her, eyeing the bracelets that were on both of their wrists.

“Jo, if it comes down to the two of us at the end of the Games-”

“Dammit, Dean- how many times do I have to tell you; I’m not going to kill you!” Jo burst out angrily. Dean flinched slightly, his hand stinging from the cuts of yesterday. It calmed him down slightly, and he looked toward Jo.

“I just want you to know that whatever happens in that arena-”

“Dean; don’t. We need to keep a clear head in this. For now, we think like we’re both going to survive- got it?” she snapped, and Dean just shook his head and raised his hands in a surrendering motion. Jo breathed out heavily at this and attempted a weak smile. They sat on Dean’s bed for a while, not saying anything as they rushed by. After who-knows-how-long, the train compartment plunged into darkness and swayed a bit as they entered the Capitol from underneath the mountains. Dean felt Jo tense beside him and had to admit that he was a bit nervous himself. At that moment, Naomi knocked on the door.

“Make sure you look presentable when you exit. Come on now,” she ushered, and Dean stood up on trembling legs, which he tried to steady as he walked towards the exit of the train, Jo right next to him. The train eventually pulled to a stop, and Dean took a deep breath before he was ushered off by Naomi. The redhead herself was very welcoming to those in the Capitol. Smiling and greeting; promising interviews later on, whilst Dean and Jo made their way through the crowd, ignoring everyone. In a move of camaraderie, Jo grabbed Dean’s hands, and he squeezed it back as they made their way through the crowds. Many people saw this, and reporters were practically trampling each other to get pictures for their paper. Naomi, however, just continued to move them forward until they were separated from each other and sent to their prep teams in the Remake Centre, Dean squeezing Jo’s hand one last time.

The room he was in was quite spacious and had three doors leading off of it. One of them opened and three people came in, gushing and babbling to one another. Dean raised an eyebrow at them, and they stopped four feet in front of him.

“So, you’re Dean Winchester,” one of them said breathlessly. She had bright bubble-gum pink hair with a blue tint to her skin so that she looked permanently cold. It reminded dean of the sweets that he often bought Sam from the Hob that were both blue and pink.

“Yup, that’s me,” Dean replied smarmily. She rolled her eyes at this.

“My name’s Delta. This-” she pointed to another woman- who’s golden tattoos made her dark skin seem even more elegant- with raven hair- “is Sparrow. And then there’s Leo,” she introduced, waving her left hand to the male on the team, who had shoulder-length red hair and a fair few freckles. He nodded slightly with a small smile.

“It’s our job to prep you for your stylist, Balthazar- then he’ll dress you for the opening ceremony!” Delta explained in a cheery voice, a smile still on her face. Dean bit back a groan of frustration. He didn’t need to be dressed by his stylist- he wasn’t a baby, thank you very much. Dean zoned out the prep team’s babble whilst they worked on him- scrubbing him down, giving him a manicure and pedicure- even going so far as to thread and style his eyebrows. When they were finished, they smiled and left Dean sitting on a small surgical-like bed in the centre of the main room in nothing but a thin paper gown. Dean groaned slightly, rubbing near his eyes where the stinging from the threading was the worst, when one of the doors opened. He jumped slightly, and the man who entered chuckled.

“I see that my associates have finished with you. I’m Balthazar- your stylist. Jo should take a little while longer with her prep, but I’ll be having the exact same talk with her later,” Balthazar explains, and Dean eyes him warily. Balthazar was at least six feet tall with sandy brown hair, and a strong Capitol accent; Dean was instantly weary of him; Balthazar, however, completely ignored this and continued.

“So, the question is; what should I dress you in for the ceremony?” Balthazar asked, and Dean fought back yet another groan of frustration. Each District had to be dressed in something relevant to what their District’s main trade was. For the past seventy-odd years, District Twelve had had the worst luck when it came to designers. A couple of years ago, the Tributes had been completely naked but covered in a layer of coal dust. Balthazar must’ve read this on Dean because he chuckled once more.

“Don’t worry- I’m not going to strip you and put you in ridiculous fancy dress outfits,” he told Dean, who frowned slightly, giving Balthazar a bit more attention.

“No?” he asked suspiciously. Balthazar’s grin was as wide as a Cheshire cat’s.

“No. You and Jo are going to burn.” Dean almost choked on thin air.

He was nervous as he stood by his chariot, although he tried not to let it show. Instead he stood by the horse and stroked it’s nose soothingly, scoping out the other competition. Charlie and Ash were chatting animatedly to each other whilst Gabriel was still trying (and failing) to flirt with Kali, who was ignoring him. Garth was cracking jokes to Ava, who smiled slightly, but was looking quite green in the face. Meanwhile, Uriel, Raphael, Bela and Zachariah were ignoring one another and standing on opposite sides of their chariots. Anna and Jake seemed to be having a conversation about the type of wood the chariot was made of, and Dean could barely understand what they were saying. Benny was helping Pamela with her outfit as it had crinkled a bit. The girl smiled slightly, and Dean felt a slight twinge of sickness. Andy was ushering someone over to him, and they gave him something wrapped in paper, which the young man then ignited and took a toke of. Lisa looked disapprovingly at him, but then also took a toke. Dean was starting to worry about Jo, and his eyes continued to scour the waiting area when they caught a pair of blue staring intensely at him. It was Castiel. Jody was happily conversing with her stylist about the types of material they were wearing, but Castiel just kept on staring at Dean, who was staring right back at him, their gaze not breaking. A slight cough broke him out of his trance, and he turned to see Jo in the same dark jumpsuit as him, but with a tiara perched atop her head. Behind her stood Balthazar, whose gaze flicked between Dean and Castiel.

“You look really good, Jo,” Dean complimented, and Jo rolled her eyes.

“It’s a shame I’m being carted off to my death,” she shot back, and Dean chuckled, shaking his head.

“How’re you feeling about this whole fire thing?” she asked nervously, and Dean shuddered. Balthazar had told them that it was fake fire and that they wouldn’t feel a thing, but Dean was less-inclined to believe people from the Capitol when they were saying something was harmless. The whole idea- Balthazar had said- was to make them look like burning coals, and so he had the make-up team apply smoky eye shadow and a light purple blush to Jo, and a small amount of eyeliner to Dean.

“Not too good; plus I feel like a painted whore. You can’t even see my freckles!” Dean pouted, and Jo chuckled bitterly, knowing that Dean held his freckles in high regard.

“True, but at least you didn’t have nearly every hair in your body waxed out,” she bitched, rubbing her arms. A loud fanfare caught them off guard, and Balthazar hurried them onto their chariots.

“Hurry up you twats! And don’t forget to light ‘em up!” he hissed, pressing a small button switch into Dean’s right hand; the switch for both the fire packs. Dean stumbled where he stood slightly, eyes scouring the place for the boy from eight. However he was a few chariots up ahead, so Dean could only see the tense shoulders and the messy hair. Both Dean and Jo lurched forward as the chariot was pulled out of the station, and Dean grabbed Jo’s right hand in his left. Dean glanced behind once more to see Balthazar grin widely, push both corners of his mouth up with his fingers and point angrily at the both of them.

“Smile,” Dean muttered to Jo as the crowd appeared, deafening them with their applause. Dean  smiled to both sides of the crowd, whilst Jo waved to the left side.

“I’m doing it now,” Dean muttered through a smile, and he saw Jo nod minutely. As soon as he pressed the button, he heard the ‘ _whoosh’_ of flames and a warm sensation, but other than that, he was okay. Relief crashed through him like a tidal wave, and the crowd went wild. Dean dropped the button to the side pocket in the chariot and waved at the citizens of the Capitol, even going so far as to lift both his and Jo’s joint hands and wave at everyone. Some people were crying with joy at seeing the two for some bizarre reason, and one young girl almost fainted when Dean winked at her. Jo was blowing kisses, Dean was catching roses, and as they made their way around in their chariot, the crowd never let down their applause and cheering. Briefly, Dean caught himself on one of the giant screens. He had never seen himself looking so powerful; so majestic. When they reached the top of the City Circle, the crowd was still cheering, still applauding. It took three attempts from the Capitol’s Leader to get them to quiet down, and even then there was still a slight buzz of conversation. The President- Metatron- welcomed them all to the Seventy Fourth Hunger Games, and Dean tuned out most of what he had to say- he’d heard it all before on television- and it was only when they’d finally reached the training centre when he realised that not only the Capitol’s citizens couldn’t keep their eyes off him, but also the other tributes.

Naomi, Bobby, and Balthazar crowd around them the instant they got of the chariot; however before he spoke to either of them, Balthazar grabbed a red contraption from the wall and drenched them both in foam; ruining their make-up, but putting out the flames. Dean and Jo spluttered with indignation, and they heard the stifled laughs of some of the other tributes. Dean turned on the spot to shout at the people laughing, but stopped when he saw that it was Garth and Andy, and they weren’t laughing at _them_ , but their situation. Dean felt a grin slip onto his face as well, and he nodded before turning back to Balthazar with a scowl.

“What was that for?” he growled, and Balthazar grinned smugly.

“To put out the fire. Honestly, you should know about fire more than I do,” he told them sarcastically. Jo rolled her eyes, and Balthazar grinned.

“The crowd loved you; you looked amazing. The hand-holding was also a lovely touch!” Balthazar almost gushed, before Naomi rolled her eyes and pushed between the two tributes, linking her arms around theirs.

“Well, we’ve got a busy day tomorrow, what with training. We’d better get you upstairs so you can wash and have an early night,” Naomi chattered, leading them towards the elevator which had three other people in, Bobby following. It was the District Eight tributes and their mentor. Naomi smiled pleasantly at them when she pushed the ‘12’ button and they ascended.

An awkward silence descended upon them, which was eventually broken by the female tribute from eight.

“Hi! I’m Jody Mills,” she said, smiling and extending her hand. Jo politely shook it and nodded.

“Jo Harvelle,” she returned, and the silence ebbed at their minds. Dean just glanced at Jody, who flushed slightly, fiddling with her hands.

“I-I just wanted to say what and honour it is to meet you two- especially you, Dean. You were so brave to volunteer for your little brother. I would’ve done the exact same thing for my sisters,” she gushed, and Dean nodded awkwardly.

“Thank you?” he more asked than anything, uncomfortable with the feeling of being watched. He assumed it was Jo, but he looked up to see that Castiel was staring intently at him, looking confused once more. Eventually the elevator stopped, and the doors opened on the eighth floor.

“It was good to meet you! I’ll see you tomorrow!” Jody told them, and both Dean and Jo strained a smile with a nod. Castiel lingered back slightly, and opened his mouth to say something, but ended up just tilting his head to the side slightly, and nodding to them both. When the elevator doors closed, Bobby let out a long sigh.

“Well that was awkward,” he commented, and Jo let out a snort of laughter, and Dean chuckled.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” he grinned, before the three of them burst out laughing, Naomi looking at them disapprovingly, but Dean could swear he saw the corners of her mouth turn up a bit in amusement. The elevator eventually stopped, and Dean’s jaw dropped at the luxury before him. Even better was the view of the Capitol that came with the giant wall of windows, which both Dean and Jo rushed to look out of. It was easy to forget that they were going to die when the view was so beautiful. The sun was almost set, casting a hue of pink, purple and orange into the suite. Naomi stood by the table, watching them both with a sad smile. She shook herself out of the stupor, however, and forced a fake smile back onto her face.

“Okay, who wants dinner?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is- next chapter will be out next Friday, and it'll cover the training and sessions. After that, we get to the actual Hunger Games! I hope you enjoyed! x


	3. Chapter 3

Living in District Twelve, Dean had never been able to appreciate the finer things in life. So when he exited his room for breakfast the first day of training, drying water from his ears, the first thing that slipped out of his mouth was:

“Dude, the water pressure here is amazing!” which earned a slight chuckle from Jo, who was drinking a hot chocolate, having finished what was on her plate. Bobby was also sat at the table with them, sipping a cup of black coffee, whilst Naomi sat on the sofa, looking through a little black book that most likely held the day’s schedule. Dean approached the table and sat down, grinning slightly before piling his plate high with scrambled eggs. Jo rolled her eyes, and Bobby remained silent.

“So what’s the plan for today?” Dean asked around a mouthful of eggs, which Naomi frowned at, pursing her lips; however, she continued on.

“We need to be at the training hall for ten o’ clock- you have lunch at one and then finish at four. After that, the rest of the evening’s yours,” she tells them, and Dean nods, swallowing a mouthful and turning to Jo.

“What’s the time now?” he asks, and Jo glances around to look at the clock.

“Twenty-five to. We’d better hurry,” Jo tells him, raising an eyebrow as Dean goes to pile more food onto his plate. He shrugs however, managing to stuff a few tomatoes into his mouth and grabbing a few slices of toast, eating them as they made their way towards the elevator. He offered a few pieces to Jo, who accepted them willingly, and the two munched on it, Naomi by their side. Dean had just finished off his third and final slice when they arrived at the training centre, eyeing the place with awe. There were many stations- all with a different skill. Dean eyed the swords warily, and Jo the throwing knife station, before Bobby’s words floated back to them. Survival stations. The weapons they could deal with later. After all, they didn’t want to show their skills off to their opponents. As it was, there were still a few people left to turn up. The tributes from District Nine and Eleven weren’t present, and nearly everyone apart from the District One, Two, and the female from Four were separated, standing awkwardly next to their District partners. That was, until, the two from District Three approached them. Dean remembered them both as Charlie and Ash.

“Morning!” the girl, Charlie, greeted, and Ash nodded. Dean looked taken aback, and Jo was staring at Ash.

“Good morning,” Dean replied stiffly, to which Ash rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry, man, we’re not gunna bite,” he replied. Jo snorted.

“Nah, you’re just gunna kill us in the arena,” she joked, and Charlie, surprisingly, laughed. Dean looked at the pair strangely, frowning.

“You’re funny- I like you. And anyways, who says it’s gunna be us killing you two? For all we know, it could be the dreamy guy that’s always staring at you,” she replied, pointing behind Dean, where Castiel was still staring at him. Dean met his eyes, expecting him to look away, but instead he met his gaze.

“So, any plans for the arena?” Ash asked Jo, who looked taken aback at such a question.

“Why would we tell you?” she bit back, and Ash’s eyes widened. Charlie snickered, which made Dean tear his eyes away from Castiel, and instead glare at Charlie.

“Because we want to be allies, duh. You seem like pretty cool guys, and I’d rather be facing the careers with you two than Flirty and Queen Bee,” she joked nodding over to Gabriel and Kali. Dean smirked slightly, about to turn down their offer when Jo stepped in.

“Sure; we’ll tell you our plan over lunch- assuming you survive the Cornucopia, we’ll become Allies,” Jo told them, stamping on Dean’s foot when he went to disagree. At this, Ash grinned, and Jo flushed slightly. Charlie smiled slightly, and thrust her hand out to Dean.

“It’s great to be on a team with you,” she said, and Dean reluctantly shook her hand, angry that Jo had accepted Allies. He’d thought it was going to be just him and her, battling out the Hunger Games, and when they were the last two left (because he refused to think of any other scenario) he’d let Jo win. Now he’d become Allies with these two, which meant it’d be harder for him to kill them- especially if he became attached. At that moment, there was a light cough, and the four of them turned to see a short man with black hair, and a slightly rounded stomach.

“Good morning, everyone. My name is Anthony Crowley, and I’ll be overseeing your training along with some others, should they bother to move their arses from their beds this morning.” Crowley muttered towards the end, obviously annoyed by his colleague’s lack of enthusiasm.

“As you can tell, this is the training area. As you can see, there are various stations. There is to be no fighting between tributes. If you wish to practise hand-to-hand combat, I’m sure the station masters will be more than happy to help,” he finished. When nobody moved he sighed roughly, shooing them with his hands.

“Go, go practise,” he told them tiredly, and there was sudden movement as people scrambled to go to various stations. Ash and Charlie stayed behind with Dean and Jo, turning to them.

“So what’re you gunna do first?” Ash asked, folding his arms across his chest. Dean frowned slightly.

“Well we were gunna work on the survival stations first. Save the good stuff for the secret sessions,” Jo answered for him, and Dean wanted to stamp on her foot. Charlie nodded.

“Sounds like a good idea- however, seeing as I’ve never wielded a weapon before, I’m gunna practise with some of those,” Charlie told them, heading off in the direction of the archery range, waving to them as she went. Jo nodded and waved back, whilst Ash stood on the spot, looking around.

“Have you ever used a weapon before?” Dean asked Ash, who nodded.

“Of course- I used to go huntin’ with my dad.” He replied, and Dean hummed.

“Anything you’re not confident on?” Jo asked, and Ash shook his head.

“Not one to toot my own horn, but I know pretty much everything here. The problem is whether or not it’ll all be relevant to the area we’re put in.” Ash replied, and Dean blinked dumbly.

“You mean to tell me that there’s absolutely _nothing_ here you can’t do?” Dean huffed, and Ash shrugged.

“I got around a lot as a child. My mom was a herbalist, so I know all the edible plants, my dad took me hunting, so I know how to snare and wield a weapon- even though my district is electronics.”  Jo was just staring at Ash, dumbfounded, as he scratched the back of his hand sheepishly.

“The only thing that I could possibly improve on is my strength, but I hardly think I’ll be able to buff up to career strength in just a week,” he told them, and Dean nodded, now entirely thankful that they had Ash on their team.

“What about starting fires without matches?” Jo asked suddenly, and Ash squinted at her.

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea. I always did struggle with that,” he told Jo, which decided what course of action they would take for now. They approached the station, and the station master smiled at them slightly as they arrived. It was empty apart from Castiel. His District Partner- Jody, Dean recalled- was with Becky from District Nine, learning how to set up a snare. Castiel’s hands were shaky, as he was trying to use a match, so whilst Jo and Ash were working on lighting fires without matches, Dean decided to be a good Samaritan and help Castiel out. The boy didn’t even jump when Dean knelt down beside him, also with a match and pile of kindling wood. Castiel tried to strike a match once more, but it snapped. It was then that Dean realised the pile of splintered matches around the boy. He observed how Castiel was holding the match, and covered the shaking hand with his own.

“If you hold the match closer to the head, it’ll give the stick more support and it won’t snap it,” Dean told him, striking the match with the other boy, who flinched when it lit up. Dean then let go of the other’s hand.

“You should light the wool first,” he told Castiel, who nodded, lighting the wool, which in turn caught the kindling, starting a small fire. Castiel smiled slightly, blue eyes flickering in the flames. Dean found himself holding his breath, before he snapped out of it, clearing his throat. It was then that Dean felt he needed to address the staring issue.

“You keep staring at me- why?” Dean asked, perhaps a bit harsher than needed. At this, Castiel’s smile slipped from his face, and he frowned in concentration.

“You are quite fascinating, Dean Winchester.” He replied, and Dean blanched, not knowing what to make of that, however, Castiel continued.

“You volunteered for your little brother. Not many people would have done that,” Castiel continued. Dean found himself angered at that prospect- the fact that where Castiel had come from, people wouldn’t have done that for their siblings.

“Then they’re cowards. What’s more important than family?” Dean grumbled, and Castiel smiled a small, knowing smile.

“To some people, their lives,” Castiel replied, and Dean snorted bitterly. It was then that the station master came over to congratulate them on their small, but effective fire. Dean turned to look at Jo and Ash, who were still trying to light a fire without matches.

“Wanna help?” Dean asked Castiel, and Castiel nodded, which in turn lead to the four of them eventually making a small fire, that had the station master almost crying with pride.

The rest of the day continued in such a manner, that they went around all of the stations (minus the ones where their skills would be shown). The brief stop for lunch had been quite pleasant- Charlie had re-joined them, grinning with pleasure at how well she was handling the weapons station. Apparently both Ava and Bela from the careers had asked her to join them, but she had politely declined, saying that she already had Allies. Castiel had returned to Jody, smiling as the girl rambled about how nice Becky was. They ate their lunch in a companionable silence, until Charlie brought up the fact that they’d said they would talk about the plan at lunch. Dean nodded, stuffing a pancake in his mouth.

“What Jo and I had in mind was this: when the buzzer sounds- we go for the Cornucopia. One of us was gunna grab supplies whilst the other watched their back.  Go for the weapons first, and then the supplies- now we’ve got three hunters on our team, finding food should be pretty simple,” Dean told them, nodding to Ash, who grinned in return. “We’ll then use the weapons we have got to fight off those who want to get supplies. There might be other things we need- rope, warm kit, etcetera,” Dean told them, and the two of them nodded, leaning in close as Dean lowered his voice.

“What’s our plan for taking out the careers?” Charlie asked, and Dean blanched at that, not knowing what to say; luckily, however, Jo came up with something.

“We’ll wait it out until the final eight, then we’ll start hunting them,” she replied, and Ash looked a little put out.

“This is, of course, if we survive that long,” Jo told them, and Dean shuddered. Ash nodded gravely.

“Well that settles that, then.”

As the week continued, Dean was becoming increasingly nervous about the fact they had gained Allies. He was starting to become attached to both Charlie and Ash, which made his plan even harder to carry out. He hadn’t confronted Jo about it, because it was obvious she liked the two of them more than he did, but it was eating him up inside. And then there was Castiel, the enigma that Dean had helped out on his first day of training. The day after, Jo had invited both Castiel and Jody to their table at lunch, making Dean even further frustrated as he realised that he had to kill those two people; the girl who was barely even of reaping age, and the awkward, strange boy who seemed to make Dean nervous, even though he’d just met him. The only comforting thought that he had was that he will not kill them, and that they’d die in the Cornucopia, and that will be that.  The six of them were sat at the same table at lunch before the secret training sessions, all talking about what they’d be doing. Charlie was confident enough now with a bow and arrow that she’d be using one of those, Jo had revealed to the others that she was an expert with throwing knives; Ash had just shrugged and said that he’d most likely figure it out when he got into the room. Jody remained thoughtful, and eventually said that she’d show them a modified snare that she’d built that can both hang a human upside down by one foot and decapitate them - Dean swallowed and rubbed his throat at that, wondering how badly he’d underestimated the other seemingly harmless opponents. Castiel just blinked, unsure of what to do, which Dean was nervous about. As much as he didn’t want to kill Castiel, he didn’t want him to get a zero in training, so he supported him anyway, clapped him on the shoulder and said:

“I’m sure you’ll think of somethin’- you’re smart after all,” Dean told Castiel, who nodded at that, the tips of his ears going pink.

“Thank you, Dean,” he replied, and Dean just shrugged, removing his hand from Castiel’s shoulders.

“What are you gunna do then, Dean?” Jo asked him taking a bite of her sandwich, and Dean frowned at that and shrugged.

“Most likely use a few weapons,” he told her, and Jo smiled knowingly at him.

“Weapons from the training area, or a homemade one?” she grinned. At this, Dean almost choked on his drink, and Castiel patted him on the back until his breathing was normal again.

“It was just a question,” Jo said, smugly, and Dean narrowed his eyes at her.

“If the equipment is there that I can make one, then I see no point in wasting precious Capitol weapons,” Dean replied, trying to ignore the impressed looks everyone was giving him. Before anybody had the chance to ask questions, however, a bell sounded, telling them that it was time for the sessions to begin. They were moved from the lunch hall into a waiting room, where there were benches against both sides, and a door that obviously lead to the training room. The silence that descended when the door they entered closed was suffocating and Dean jogged his leg in anticipation. Jo kept on wringing her hands before another pair covered them, causing her to relax. Dean looked up to see Ash holding them, a small smile pointed towards Jo, who was returning it. This in turn made Dean even more nervous, and he jumped out of his skin when a hand landed on his thigh, stilling his leg. Dean looked to his right to see Castiel sitting there casually, as though he hadn’t just groped Dean’s thigh, and to be honest, Dean didn’t have the heart to remove it, so just covered the trembling hand on his thigh with his own. It was then that the first tribute- Zachariah- was called in. Time passed slowly, and when it was Ash’s turn, Jo gave his hand one final squeeze before he stood to go into the separate room. Jo let out a breath, and Ash grinned to her from by the door, waving as he entered. Fifteen minutes went by before Charlie was called in after Ash. She smiled at the remaining four and entered with a spring in her step.  Dean’s stomach clenched, and he grew increasingly nervous, watching as the door swallowed up more tributes. When Castiel was called, Dean felt the hand on his thigh tighten, and he gave Castiel’s hand a tight squeeze in reassurance.

“You’ll be fine,” he muttered, and Castiel nodded, swallowing slightly, and walking on shaky legs towards the door. Just as he was about to go in, he glanced a panicked look back towards Dean, who gave him a thumbs up, and then he was gone. The smile fell away from Dean’s face, and he felt Jo take his hand into hers, and they waited silently together, Jody by their side taking calming breaths and muttering her plan to herself. When Jody was called, she stood right up at attention, and walked stiffly to the doors, calming herself. Both Jo and Dean gave her thumbs up this time, and she returned it with a grin before entering the room.  The silence was deafening this time around as Dean waited to be called. Jo was tense beside him, not saying a word, and controlling her breathing, eyes unfocused. He was so busy focusing on Jo, that when he was called, he violently jumped, squeezing Jo’s hand even tighter. Jo turned to him, eyes wide, taking her hand from his and pulling him in for a hug.

“Good luck,” she whispered, and Dean squeezed back in return.

“Thanks- you too. I’ll meet you back at the room,” Dean told her, and Jo nodded, letting go of Dean. When people had been entering the room before him, Dean couldn’t understand why they had been so nervous, but now that he was up, he realised. His performance here would determine how well the Game Makers thought he would do in the arena- this in turn effected who wanted to sponsor him; and even though Dean knew he’d be able to hold his own, now that they had Allies, they may need sponsor now more than ever. So he took in a calming breath and entered the room.

The Game Makers turned to see his arrival, and he nodded towards them slightly. The Head Game Maker nodded back.

“Dean Winchester, you have fifteen minutes; please begin,” he stated, and Dean turned to see what materials he could use. When he spotted a large chunk of wood, a wet stone and a flat, blade-like stone, he grinned. As he assembled his materials, the panel looked confused as to what he was doing. Dean gritted his teeth as he quickly whittled the chunk of wood into a handle, making a place for the blade to settle. After that, he grabbed the wet stone and began to sharpen the flat stone into a blade; after it was finished, he pieced it together securely with some rope, and turned to the Game Makers with a slight grin. It soon slipped off his face as he realised they weren’t paying attention, but they were, in fact, all standing around a glazed pig with an apple in its mouth.  Anger pulsed through Dean’s veins, sparking adrenaline. In a fit of rage, he launched his homemade weapon towards the pig, decapitating it, his blade becoming seated in the wall behind it. There was a shattering as some people dropped their glasses; one man had tripped over backwards and landed in the punch bowl. The Head Game Maker had crushed his glass between his hands, the shards making him bleed, and he stared at Dean as though he had grown an extra head. At this, Dean bowed down slightly.

“Thank you for your consideration,” he snarked, making his way out of the room just as the claxon saying his time was up sounded.

His hands wouldn’t stop shaking as he approached the elevator, and he tried on several attempts to press the button, but he couldn’t manage it.

“FUCK!” he yelled, punching the wall in frustration. He’d totally blown it, he thought. He’d lost his temper, and now they were going to make the rest of his life in the arena a living hell. At this thought, his blood ran cold- he hadn’t just endangered himself, he’d endangered Jo, Ash, and Charlie at the same time. Growling, he clenched his hand once more, and pressed the button- this time being successful. A few moments later, the elevator doors opened, and he stepped inside, punching the number ‘12’ with his thumb, breathing heavily and leaning against the glass that overlooked the city. The doors swiftly closed, and he felt himself ascend to his level, relaxing as he did so. After today, he just wanted to sit in the shower- or maybe even take a bubble bath- to avoid everyone. But he couldn’t. He had to stay up and look for the televised scores, his failure; Dean briefly wondered if they’d ever scored anyone a zero in the history of the Hunger Games- if not, today he would make history. A small ‘ding’ announced that the elevator had arrived on his floor, and he calmed himself before entering the suite. Naomi was sitting at the table, smiling at him with a cup of coffee, the same with Bobby, who grinned at him gruffly.

“How’d it go?” he asked, approaching Dean with a cup of hot chocolate, which Dean accepted gratefully.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Dean replied, feeling slightly sick. Instead he wandered over to the sofa and collapsed into it. Naomi hummed from her place at the table, and Dean turned to look at her, but it seemed as though she was just humming to herself, and Dean ignored her, sipping at his drink. He almost choked when Jo burst through the elevator doors yelling.

“What the hell did you do, Dean?!” she shouted, and Dean spilled some of his drink on his lap.

“Jo?” he asked, setting his mug on the table, only to be crashed into by the aforementioned girl.

“There was a blade stuck in the wall! One of yours! Behind the Game Makers! The Head Game Maker had cuts all over his hands!” Jo almost screamed. Dean backed up against the wall, but Jo was still in his face, prodding his chest.

“Do you realise how much danger you’ve put yourself in? Put us all in?!” she yelled, until Bobby came along and rested a hand on her shoulder.

“Calm down, Jo,” he reassured, and Jo span to him, anger deflating, her eyes desperate. Bobby’s eyes hardened and he stared at Dean.

“What’d you do, boy?” Bobby asked gruffly, and Dean looked down, slightly ashamed.

“I’d built a weapon, and was going to just throw it at one of the dummies; but they weren’t even paying attention, Bobby! They were more interested in the pig that had just arrived. I lost my temper and threw my blade at the pig and chopped its friggin’ head off!” Dean snapped, and Bobby released a long breath.

“Dean, I ain’t gonna say that what you did weren’t right, but Jo has a point- you’re Allies, and it ain’t fair of you to go messin’ things up, y’hear?” he explained to Dean, who took an angry breath.

“You think I don’t know that?” he replied weakly, and Bobby replied with a weak sigh. Over at the table, Naomi looked as though she was going to faint at the idea of Dean attacking the Game Makers, but decided to break the tension.

“Well I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry for dinner,” she told them, and Dean nodded. There was still a slight tension in the air, and the dinner was quiet and strained. Naomi tried on several occasions to make conversation, but it quickly died out, leaving an uncomfortable silence behind, until eventually the dinner plates were cleared away.

“The scores should be on in a few minutes,” Naomi announced, wiping her mouth with a napkin. Dean and Jo nodded silently, still not talking to each other; Dean out of guilt and Jo out of anger. However, they sat next to each other on the sofa, equally as nervous for the scores. Naomi turned on the television, and the Panem seal disappeared, and Lilith came into view on the stage, calming the cheering crowd.

“Good evening everyone! As we all know, today the secret sessions happened,” she explained to the crowd, who cheered louder at that, and she winked to the camera. Dean felt the dread curl up in his stomach as the scores were called out. Presumably the careers had scored high: Bela and Zachariah had both scored eight, Uriel had also scored an eight whilst Raphael scored a seven. Dean was pleasantly surprised when both Charlie and Ash scored nine, whilst Ava scored a six, and Garth a seven. This year seemed to be quite an intense one. Kali scored an eight, whilst Gabriel scored a five- the lowest so far. Baby pulled in a seven, whilst her District Partner – Teller- pulled an eight; this surprised Dean a bit, as he hadn’t really paid all that much attention to the two dark-skinned tributes from Six. Beside him, Dean noticed that Jo was editing her notes, re-evaluating her initial thoughts on the tributes. Both Anna and Jake scored seven, and Dean’s eyes widened slightly when Castiel’s score came up- he felt his stomach sink at the ‘two’ that was on the screen. Jo also winced beside him. Lilith remarked on it, saying it was a tough thing, and that she wished him luck. Jody- on the other hand- scored a nine, and Dean couldn’t help but smile slightly. Becky and Rufus scored a respectful six and seven, whilst Benny pulled an eight, and everyone nearly choked on air when Pamela scored a ten.

“How the hell-” Dean started, but Jo shushed him, trying to note down the scores of Andy – a six- and Lisa, another six. Now came the part Dean was dreading. His breath shortened, palms sweating.

“Dean Winchester… oh my god. Ladies and Gentlemen, Dean Winchester has scored a Twelve!” Lilith gushed, checking over her notes to see if there was a mistake. Dean stopped breathing for a moment, before his ears were assaulted with cheering both from the crowd, and the people beside him. Jo was clutching onto him, laughing with a childish glee.

“I’m sorry for misjudging your temper, Dean,” she apologised, grinning full force, and Dean smiled back weakly- he couldn’t help but feel it was more of a punishment than a reward. After everything had settled down, Lilith then read off the final score. Jo had scored a nine.

“We did pretty good, huh?” Jo asked weakly, and Dean smiled back just so in return.

“Yeah, we did.” He was then cut off by Bobby sweeping him into a crushing bear-hug. Dean gasped for breath, whilst Jo cackled beside him.

“I knew you had it in ya, boy,” he sniffled, and Dean wanted to roll his eyes. Despite her initial conviction of Dean’s session, Naomi smiled slightly and patted him on the shoulder.

“Okay, now that training’s over, you’ve got the day off tomorrow to prepare for your televised interviews,” Naomi told them, going back to her little black book. Dean nodded slightly, rubbing his ribs after Bobby had let go. Jo looked slightly nervous.

“We’ll talk about that tomorrow, however. You need a full night’s sleep,” she told them, and they both nodded, standing from their position on the sofa, making their way to their respective rooms. When he entered his room, he stripped down and entered the bathroom, stepping into the shower. As he scrubbed his hair and body, he couldn’t help but feel slightly relieved, but disappointed.  He was relieved that both Charlie and Ash had scored highly in their sessions, as it meant they could survive if they were ambushed as an Alliance, but he was disappointed and slightly worried about Castiel. Even though they hadn’t agreed to be allies, Dean still felt a slight attachment to the boy; this frustrated Dean even further, because he didn’t want to get attached to people he would eventually have to kill. It was also eating him up at the fact that Castiel had only scored a two. If this were any other situation, Dean would team up with him in an instant to protect him- his brotherly instincts kicking in; but this was the Hunger Games- and in the Hunger Games you either win, or you die. Hands still shaking, Dean exited the shower and dried himself, before slipping on some pyjamas and falling into a restless sleep.

When he awoke, it was to Jo shaking his shoulders.

“Dammit Dean, it’s almost midday! Balthazar’s gunna be here in a minute,” Jo told him, and Dean sat up, groggily, before realising he was just in his boxer shorts above his covers.

“Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” he mumbled, his mouth feeling as though it was stuffed with cotton balls. Jo rolled her eyes, and Dean noticed that she’s had a shower, and her hair was smelling of strawberries, reminiscent of the muffins they had eaten on their way to the capitol- it reminded Dean of home, and he latched onto the familiar smell. They were inches from each other, and Jo placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You were yelling in your sleep for half the night- you calmed down at about three, so we thought that we’d let you have a lay-in,” she explained, and Dean’s eyes widened.

“I don’t remember any of my dreams last night,” he replied, and Jo smiled slightly in return.

“That’s a good thing though, right?” and Dean swallowed once more.

“Can I at least get some lunch first,” he asked, and Jo laughed, loud and clear at the question.

“Of course, dumbass,” she said good-naturedly, and Dean chuckled in return, watching Jo exit his room. He swung his legs over the edge of his bed and rubbed a hand down his face, trying to recall any of the dreams he’d had last night- but nothing came back to him. However, he decided to ignore it, and pulled on some clothes, weary about the day ahead.

Balthazar, it turned out, was going to coach the both of them on how to act properly. Dean had almost died laughing when Jo was being taught to walk in heels, and she took her time to tease Dean when Balthazar had told him that he had to wear a suit. By the late evening, they were both smiling along with Balthazar and working on their ‘characters’ for the interviews. Jo was aiming for friendly, whilst Dean was aiming for flirty. Both Naomi and Bobby had been popping in and out of the suite all day, only tossing them callous greetings before disappearing again. Balthazar had told them that they were busy sorting out sponsors, which shocked Dean. He knew that they were popular, but apparently flocks of people were lining up to sponsor them. And it wasn’t just ‘I want to sponsor Dean Winchester’ or ‘I want to Sponsor Joanna-Beth Harvelle’, it was a joint sponsorship, wanting to sponsor _both_ of them.

“It’s got quite a few of the Game Makers worried,” Balthazar told them when they had finished for the day- they were eating dinner out on the roof, overlooking the city lights.

“Why?” Dean asked, obviously confused.

“Because you two shouldn’t be working together- you should be against each other. By sponsoring both of you at the same time, it’s got some people thinking you can both survive- which is obviously out of the question” Balthazar replied bluntly, shoving a piece of sausage in his mouth, and Dean admired him for his honesty.

“Yeah, well, even if we do die, at least we’ve got sponsors,” Dean replied, and Jo nodded in agreement. Balthazar stared at the two for a minute before a bitter smile crossed his face.

“You know, I’m not allowed to bet- but if I could, I’d bet on you two,” he replied, and Dean and Jo looked up from their meals, surprised at the show of affection from their stylist. The silence stretched on for a while and Balthazar cleared his throat.

“Wow, that was awkward. Almost thought there’d be a mushy moment then,” he muttered, going back to his sausage casserole. Dean and Jo smiled into their meals, amused by the small show of affection and how Balthazar handled it.

“You were the one who started it,” Dean shrugged, and Jo snorted.

“Children,” she muttered, and the atmosphere lightened slightly.

The final day loomed over Dean like a dark shadow, putting a damper on his spirits. Both he and Jo wouldn’t eat properly, until Bobby eventually snapped, saying that it could be their last proper meal in days. This then encouraged them to eat with gusto, taking on board as much as they could, as well as drinking as much as they could. Two hours before the interviews started, Balthazar was rushing around with the prep teams, trying to get Dean and Jo suitable for the cameras; he eventually snapped when Dean caused Leo to burst into tears.

“Dammit, Dean; I don’t care about your freckles! You need the foundation so that you don’t look washed out on camera!” Balthazar yelled, almost pulling his hair out, whilst Delta held Leo in a tight hug, glaring at Dean at the same time. Jo also looked imploringly at Dean whilst she sat still for her prep team, all with whom she was having a fairly lovely conversation with. With this reflective, Dean huffed out a sigh, and rubbed his temples.

“Right, sorry,” he muttered, and Leo sniffed before going back to apply the foundation, their team becoming slightly disgruntled. And awkwardly quiet. To be honest, Dean had felt fully justified in snapping. He was about to go on television before millions of people, and not be worried about the fact he’d most probably be dead in less than a week. It wasn’t really much to ask for, for his freckles to be uncovered. Eventually, it was time for them to put on their clothes. Dean was glad to find that he’d just be wearing a normal suit, and his father’s green tie had been salvaged from the Remake Centre. Jo, however, had to have three people help her get into her dress, and then Balthazar had to send the heels back because they were too high. However, they managed to get backstage only a couple of minutes late, by which time Lilith was introducing the night’s entertainment to a cheering crowd. Dean took in a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves when Jo grabbed his hand.

“You’ll do fine, I’m sure,” she told him, and Dean nodded as Bela was called up. She was welcomed to a wave of cheering, and she waved to them, blowing them kisses. Originally being from the Capitol, Bela had no problems fitting in, and Dean soon learned that the only reason she had moved to the outside District was so that she could take part in the Hunger Games. Dean felt sick at that. Soon, her two minutes were up, and she left the stage, waving to her admirers. Zachariah was up next, and he exuded a cocky air about him when speaking to Lilith- it seemed even the perky presenter was sort of put-off with his demeanour, but nevertheless went about the interview with a cheerful manor. When Raphael got on stage, Lilith smiled at her warmly, shaking her strong hand and commenting on how great she looked. Raphael just nodded gracefully and returned the compliment; it was only when it was Uriel’s turn to step up that Lilith brought up the elephant in the room- the fact that they were siblings. Uriel just shrugged, however, and said that it was their way of sorting out who’d take over the family business when one of them returned from the Games. Lilith swallowed slightly at that, and nodded, whilst the crowd cheered him off. Charlie may as well have been a Queen with the way she walked up on stage, as if she owned it. She was very cheerful during the interview, even flirting with Lilith, who took it all with good grace. When Charlie’s time was up, she took Lilith’s hand and kissed her fingers gently, causing the woman to blush slightly, and stammer out Ash’s name. Ash laughed heartily, and pulled Lilith in for a tight hug when he saw her, and even being cheeky enough to say:

“You’re shorter in person!” to which the crowd laughed and cheered at, Lilith taking it in good nature. The interviews dragged on, Ava being childishly innocent, Garth being like a friendly puppy dog, Kali was as intimidating as ever; Gabriel was cracking jokes, making the crowd hoot and cheer. Baby was very calm and level headed, spouting wisdom on stage, which had Lilith in awe of how mature the girl was; her counterpart was very nervous and jittery, but was still sweet, making the audience ‘aww’ at him, which he smiled nervously at. Anna was fiery in her determination, and it was only matched by Jake, who was definitely trying to outdo her. When Jody came on stage, Lilith was flustered, and smiled at Jody as if she were a refreshing drink; Jody was a pleasure to interview, answering the questions clearly, but with respect and always smiling- there was no trace of the flustered girl from the elevator, and Dean wondered if maybe her prep team had convinced her to take something to calm down- he hoped not. Eventually, she curtseyed to Lilith and the crowd, who all cheered her and it was then that it was Castiel’s turn to go on stage. From what Dean could see, the poor boy looked terrified, and he caught Dean’s eye as he was about to go on, and Dean gave him a smile and mouthed ‘good luck’ to him, to which Castiel smiled weakly at. Lilith fawned over Castiel the moment he stepped on stage, and Castiel’s smile faltered slightly. He answered Lilith’s questions with stuttered answers, but Lilith thankfully managed to turn it in his favour, so people were still cheering for him when he left the stage to Becky, who all but bounded on, gushing about how great the Capitol was and how she’d miss the food there. Lilith laughed along with her, and the two of them settled into a routine like old friends. Rufus was cynical in a funny way, making morbid jokes at his own expense, which some of the other tributes backstage also laughed at, and it lightened the mood greatly. Pamela was next to be interviewed, and a Capitol member was about to help her onstage, when she waved his hand away and managed to find her way herself; when she entered the limelight, there was an uproar of noise for her benefit, and she smiled in the direction of the crowd, waving to them. Dean was highly impressed by the way Pamela seemed to be able to sense her way around, and Lilith even commented on it herself, the result being Pamela laughing and tapping her nose.

“My other senses are heightened,” she commented, and Lilith nodded at her, hugging her as her two minutes were up. Benny then took the stage, and he seemed to have the same cynical humour as Rufus, but was gentler with it than the other male. Benny left leaving Lilith quite perplexed, but the presenter shook off the feeling and welcomed Lisa to the stage, who was feeling quite nervous, but was very charming at the same time; Andy left a similar impression on the crowd, and Dean couldn’t help but feel slightly attached to the younger ones, his brotherly instinct kicking in. He mildly panicked when he felt Jo’s hand leave his, and he looked to see Jo smiling as she went on stage. The applause for Jo rivalled that of Pamela’s, and Jo graciously accepted it, waving to the crowd and blowing them kisses. Lilith laughed slightly, and ushered Jo over to the sofa, where the two of them talked for a short while, before landing on the topic of their outfits for the Opening Ceremony. Jo laughed slightly, relaying the events that had happened with Balthazar involving the fire extinguisher, and the Capitol laughed along with her, the whole place feeling very at ease. Her time was soon up, and Dean was left shallowly breathing as he waited for Jo to exit the stage so he could enter. A guard then nodded at him, and pushed him slightly, before noise crashed over Dean’s ears, and he automatically assumed the ‘flirty and fun’ vibe that Balthazar had instilled into him. It took Lilith at least five minutes to calm the crowd down; all that while, Dean was waving to everyone, blowing kisses, and winking at a few ladies in the front row, leaning over to shake their hands as well. After everything had settled down, Dean sat with Lilith on the sofa, and she took his hands in her.

“So, Dean, when you volunteered for your little brother, we all knew that you’d be a hit this year- tell me, how did it feel when his name was called out?” Lilith asked, and Dean was by no means ready for that question. He expected to be able to flirt his way through it, but it would be wrong to answer such a question in that manner. His eyes scoured the crowd for something to focus on, and they found Bobby by the exit; Bobby was someone he could talk to about these things, no matter how drunk he usually was.

“Like my world had ended,” he muttered, and Lilith nodded understandingly, gripping his hand tighter.

“And you felt as though it would be better for him to remain alive, with his family, than to be in the Games?” she asked, and Dean swallowed, looking to her, trying to swallow the lump in his throat that wouldn’t go down. He nodded.

“Y-yeah; I mean, back home we’ve got people who’ll take care of him- Jo’s mom for one, though she scares the hell outta me sometimes,” he chuckled wetly, and Lilith smiled slightly.

“So you knew Joanna before she was Reaped?” Lilith asked, and Dean nodded again.

“We’re best friends; I promised her mom I’d look out for her in the arena- if I die before she does, she’ll help look after Sammy-” Lilith was nodding along, and there were tears in her eyes, and the Capitol waited with bated breath, tears also springing from their eyes.

“And if you win and Jo doesn’t?” Lilith asked the dreaded question. Dean shivered at that, but before he could answer the question, the buzzer sounded, announcing their time was up. As Dean stood to leave, so did the crowd, cheering his and Jo’s name. Before he could get off-stage, Jo had run half-way to meet him, and pulled him into a tight hug, which had the crowd cheering even louder, giving Lilith a near impossible job of quietening them down. The two of them left the stage together, unaware of the tears falling down their faces. Bobby and Naomi joined them as they made their way to the elevator, hands joined in a silent show of support for one another. As they arrived, it was to see Ash and Charlie waiting around nervously. When they approached, Ash pulled Jo in for a hug, and she held on for dear life, and Charlie did the same for Dean; it was then that Dean knew for certain he wouldn’t be able to kill his two Allies in the arena. Bobby and Naomi stood to the side, Bobby with his hands on both Dean’s and Jo’s shoulder. They eventually broke away, and Dean wiped his eyes, along with Jo, whose mascara had run down her face, which caused them to chuckle slightly.

“We just wanted to go over the plan again,” Charlie told them gently, and the two of them nodded.

“Are they allowed in our suite?” Jo asked Naomi, who pursed her lips slightly.

“They’re your Allies?” she asked for confirmation, and Dean nodded, to which she smiled slightly.

“Then yes, they’re allowed up- come on. Have you told your mentor where you’re going?” Naomi asked as they walked towards the elevator, and Ash nodded.

“Yep- he was so drunk he didn’t even care,” Ash told her, and she looked appalled. Bobby shifted guiltily, but Dean clapped him on the shoulder.

“Bobby here was like that; but we sobered him up,” Dean told Ash and Charlie proudly, and Bobby rolled his eyes.

“Idjits,” he mumbled fondly, as they ascended to Dean and Jo’s level. As they exited the elevator, Ash and Charlie’s jaws dropped open at the view they had.

“Aw, man- this isn’t fair! Why does Twelve get the best suite?” Ash complained, as Charlie looked around, sinking into a puffy and grand armchair and groaning in relief.

“This is soooo comfy!” she told them, sinking lower and lower. Dean just laughed and decided to order room service as they went over their plan.

The morning they were due to enter the arena, Dean was a nervous wreck, as was Jo. They didn’t show it on the outside however, but kept it to themselves, taking on board as much water as they could, eating what would stay down. Soon enough, they were separated, the only lingering contact between them being a squeeze of hands. Dean swallowed nervously as he was taken on board the hovercraft, which then froze him in place. His eyes were wide and panicked as something was injected into his arm, but Balthazar, who had accompanied Dean on his hovercraft, gently placed a hand on his frozen shoulder.

“It’s so they can track you in the arena,” Balthazar told him, and Dean nodded, his stomach clenching at the thought of his every move being tracked. The hovercraft eventually landed at the Launch Room for the arena, and Dean was unfrozen. Balthazar led him down a corridor and into a room, where in the centre there was a circular floor pad.

“We’ve got a while before we launch- do you want a shower?” Balthazar asked, and Dean nodded, knowing that it would most likely be the last shower of his life. After he was washed and dried, Balthazar handed him his clothes for the arena. It wasn’t unlike the clothes he’d usually wear for a normal day’s hunt, and the boots were made of a supple leather- Dean felt more at home dressed in his arena outfit than he had throughout the past week at the Capitol. Dean smiled slightly as he assessed his gear.

“Thanks, man- for y’know; gettin’ us liked and stuff,” Dean mumbled, and Balthazar chuckled slightly, pulling Dean into a hug.

“No problem, Dean. You know, I’m not allowed to bet in these things, but if I could, I’d be betting on you and Jo,” he mumbled, and Dean raised his arms to hug the man back. It was then that a voice sounded, telling them to prepare for the launch. Dean swallowed nervously before stepping onto the metal plate, eyes darting around when a glass tube slipped over it. He felt sick. This was it; he was going to his death. However, he calmed himself on the outside, as if to appear stronger than he was. The tube rose and his fists were clenched dutifully and steadily at his side, his mother’s charm bracelet the only thing keeping him anchored. The tube finally stopped, and Dean observed his surroundings, grinning when he realised what it was. They were in a meadow- to one side, there was tall grass and a slow descent, and on the other side there was a forest, not unlike that which he hunted in back in District Twelve; as the countdown started, his eyes swept to search for Jo, Ash, and Charlie. All four of them met each other’s gaze one at a time, and nodded in acceptance. Last night, they had devised a series of hand signals so they knew where to in the Cornucopia. As Dean was closest to the mouth, he indicated that the three of them should watch his back whilst he grabbed the food supplies, whilst Ash was the second nearest, and he signalled that he should go for the weapons; Charlie and Jo were going to watch his back, and when Ash got the weapons, they’d make their way towards the forest, leaving the unknown long grass for somebody else to venture into. The countdown was in its last ten seconds, and Dean was bracing himself at the edge of his plate before the loud, clear voice of Meg Masters, the Hunger Games announcer rang out across the clearing.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Let the Seventy Fourth Hunger Games begin!”

And the claxon sounded.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is late guys, but I got a new job, and it took up most of my week. I think I'll be changing the update days to every Sunday now, if that's okay with you?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the wait on this one! I got a new job and it's been keeping me so busy I haven't had time to update- but know that I'm over half-way with the next chapter already :)

Adrenaline pumped through Dean’s veins as he dashed straight towards the Cornucopia. A few people were still on their pads, assessing the area, in shock; this gave Dean the advantage he needed to swipe two backpacks, throwing one to Jo, who caught it and flung it over her shoulder. Briefly, Dean caught sight of Bela wielding a sword, before turning on the spot and thrusting it through the fragile body of the boy from Six. Zachariah high-fived her before turning to grab a weapon of his own.

“Dean!” almost giving himself whiplash with the speed he turned, he saw Charlie aiming an arrow at him from where she’d swiped them from the Cornucopia. He ducked in time and rolled over to see that Jake Talley from Seven had been ready to take his head off with a machete- however Jake was stopped as one of Charlie’s arrows tore through his neck, causing blood to spurt all over the place, including Dean’s face. Taking in a deep breath, Dean wiped the warm blood out of his eyes and grabbed Ash’s arm to help himself up, prising the machete from Jake’s dead body. Ash had managed to secure a pouch of throwing knives for Jo, who was currently battling Becky Rosen. It was a short fight, however, as Pamela managed to slit the young girl’s throat from behind, and Jo had jumped backwards to avoid being slaughtered herself; although she didn’t manage to avoid the blood spray, gagging when some landed in her mouth.

“Jo! Let’s go!” Dean yelled, thrusting his free hand out towards her, and she grabbed at it blindly as the four of them started running into the forest, trying to dodge the occasional throwing knife and arrow from the Careers. Charlie and Ash ploughed on ahead, jumping over various roots and branches, whilst Dean dragged Jo along behind him, his grip not loosening.

Until he tripped.

There was a resounding ‘crunch’ from where his foot collided with the body, and Jo had also tumbled down with him, Ash and Charlie stopping and coming back on themselves to see what the issue was. With a groan, Dean glanced to see what had caused the fall and felt his breath catch in his throat. Castiel was lying on the floor, blood across his face and coat, eyes closed as if asleep.

“C-Cas?” Dean croaked, before Jo was tugging him up again and forcing them deeper into the forest with Ash and Charlie. They continued alternating between jogging and walking for several hours before they eventually slowed down, panting for breath. Once they had calmed down, Dean collapsed against the side of a tree, clutching at his chest. For the week before the Games, it hadn’t seemed as though it would actually happen- it seemed like a fantasy- but now that it was actually happening, he felt the panic he had managed to squash down creeping back up on him. His breathing was starting to shallow, and he felt clammy, dizzy.

“Fuck,” he panted, and Jo was over to his side in a flash, placing a comforting hand in between his shoulder blades, murmuring quiet reassurances to him, and Dean had to suppress a manic bite of laughter at the situation. Meanwhile, Ash and Charlie were pacing a small perimeter, listening out for anyone, seeing if they could sense any traps. After five minutes, Jo had led Dean back to the centre of the circle Charlie and Ash had been making.

“I think we’re okay,” Ash muttered, still looking out, before returning his attention to Dean and Jo, both who were sitting cross-legged on the floor. It was only when Ash spotted the blood on Jo’s face that he remembered the knives he’d swiped for her, and threw the pouch onto her lap.

“Thanks,” she breathed, caressing the pouch, and strapping it to her right thigh. Ash smiled tightly, whilst Charlie placed her bow onto the floor, along with her quiver of arrows.

“You two okay?” she asked, and Jo nodded whilst Dean swallowed and averted his eyes.

“We shoulda helped Cas,” he mumbled quietly, and Jo rubbed his back soothingly. Not one to handle awkward silences, Ash cleared his throat, and advanced towards the two of them, careful not to make any noise with his steps.

“So what we got in the way of supplies?” he asked Dean and Jo, who shucked off their backpacks and flipped them open. They carefully removed each item, lining them up in front of their bags. In total there was two sleeping bags that reflects body heat (one in each pack), two lots of water purifying tablets, a sealed bottle of water, an empty two litre water bottle, a pack of crackers, some beef jerky, three bread rolls, a bag of trail mix, a pair of sunglasses, a box of wooden matches, a decent length of sturdy rope, a compass, and a large coil of wire that could be used for snares. Charlie grinned at the selection, and whooped quietly, whilst Ash just smiled gently. Jo sighed in relief at the collection whilst Dean stared at what they had numbly.

“That- that’s a pretty decent haul,” he remarked, almost dumbstruck by his luck. The sound of a canon blast rang throughout the arena, and Dean instinctively raised his machete, wildly looking around for the cause of the noise. A second blast sounded, and Ash relaxed, seeming to look troubled. The canon blasts continued for a while, and when they stopped, the four of them glanced at each other.

“How many did you count?” Jo asked, and Charlie swallowed.

“Eight,” she replied, and Dean blanched. That meant there were still twelve Tributes out there hunting them down.

“That’s not nearly enough,” Ash commented, earning a glare from Dean. Ash met it with one of his own.

“I _mean_ , there wasn’t enough bloodshed for the Capitol. There’s most likely gonna be some Game Maker intervention,” Ash told them, and Dean paled at that, along with Charlie and Jo.

“Enough moping, we need to find shelter,” Charlie snapped, trying to forget the circumstances. No matter how angry Dean was, it could wait until they’d found shelter, and preferably near a source of water, and Dean told them so. They packed away their supplies, minus the water and compass, before deciding which way to go. Charlie was adamant about going north, whereas Dean wanted to go south, and Jo and Ash were split between east and west.

“I’d say flip a coin, but we don’t have one,” Dean snarked, which was met with a snort from Jo. Tempers were running high, and Ash was gripping at his hair. It was Charlie who eventually came up with the solution.

“How about we rock, paper, scissors it?” she suggested, and Dean blanched at the simple solution.

“Sounds like an idea,” Jo agreed, and Ash hummed in agreement, so Dean had no choice but to accept. After a short few rounds of rock, paper, scissors, they ended up heading west, much to Dean’s dismay, and so they headed in that direction, all of them keeping a sharp eye and ear out. Along the way, Jo and Charlie managed to catch two large rabbits each, and Dean stuffed them in the pack, ready to skin and cook when they got to a decent place to camp. As they ventured, the sun sank in the sky and the moon began to rise; Dean’s legs were starting to protest from the amount of walking they’d accomplished that day, and he was more than willing to just collapse on the floor and leave the others to venture forward when they stumbled across the entrance to a cave. Jo was slightly cautious about entering, as she felt they would be easily cornered, but eventually gave up as exhaustion took over any rational thought. They entered cautiously into a narrow passage, keeping a keen ear out for anything that could be a threat. A few meters down the passage, the cave opened up into a domed area, wide enough for the four of them to rest in. Jo sighed happily, as did Charlie, and Dean just grinned at Ash. Jo collapsed onto the floor, groaning slightly at the rest. Ash looked just as exhausted as Jo and crashed down next to her.

“Not that finding shelter isn’t good, but I think we should set up guard duty,” Dean told them, and Jo hummed in agreement, eyes closed. Charlie turned to Dean, hoisting her quiver of arrows more comfortably onto her back.

“I guess we’re on first watch then,” she told him, nodding to Ash and Jo, who were almost passing out. Dean nodded, slipping the rucksack off his back and pulling out one of the sleeping bags for Ash and Jo to share- it seemed like it was going to be a cold night- and took the other rucksack off of Jo, placing the rabbits to the side and pulling out the other sleeping bag. As he did so, the sunglasses fell out and clattered to cave floor. Charlie’s eyes widened and she picked them up, placing them on.

“Charlie, why are you wearing sunglasses at night?” Dean sighed roughly, putting the rabbits back in the rucksack. Charlie faced him with a grin whilst they made their way to the entrance of the cave, leaving Jo and Ash to get comfortable.

“I didn’t realise it at first, but these aren’t normal sunglasses!” Charlie exclaimed excitedly. Dean blinked at her, and they settled down at the entrance, Dean wrapping the sleeping bag around them.

“These are glasses designed to let you see at night. They give you perfect vision!” Charlie gushed quietly. Dean’s eyes widened in response, and his hand reached out to grab the glasses from Charlie’s face. Charlie flinched slightly, but let Dean take the glasses from her. As he put them on, he gasped at how well he could see. Everything was brought into sharp detail, and he found himself not wanting to remove them- however, as Charlie had the ranged weapon out of the two, he handed them back to her.

“You see anyone, don’t hesitate to shoot them,” Dean told her, and she nodded, placing the glasses back on her face and keeping watch with Dean by her side. It was then that a fanfare started up, causing Charlie to jump. The Capitol’s Seal was projected into the sky, followed by the tributes that had fallen that day. The first to appear was the male tribute from Six, and Dean took a moment to acknowledge such a young death, but shivered when he realised it meant that all the Careers had survived, along with the dangerous Kali from Five. After that was Jake, and Dean braced himself for seeing Castiel’s face hovering in the sky, clutching Charlie’s hand in his own. However, only Jody’s face appeared in the sky before moving on to show Becky and Rufus from Nine. Only once Pamela, Andy, and Lisa’s faces had been shown, did Dean realise that Castiel was not amongst the list of the dead. Next to him, Charlie was frowning at sky, clearly confused.

“He was still alive,” Charlie muttered, and Dean felt his stomach clench at that- the fact they had been so close to him but not been able to pull him up with them and find safety. This thought shook him from his reverie, however, and he narrowed his eyes and steeled his features, shutting off nearly all emotions.

“We can’t afford to be compassionate,” he told her gruffly- but more so reminded himself- and she nodded in return, squeezing his hand for reassurance.

“I get it,” she replied, then letting go of his hand, and returning to watch. When the sun began to rise, Dean moved back inside the cave, bringing the sleeping bag with him to wake Jo and Ash from their rest. He entered to see the two of them curled up together, Ash with his arm around Jo protectively; it almost hurt Dean to have to wake them up. The thought didn’t last long, however, as he approached the sleeping bag, shaking Jo gently.   

“Hey, Jo; it’s your turn to keep watch,” Dean told her, and she groaned slightly before sitting bolt upright, obviously realising just where she was.

“Sorry,” she blurted, eyes still blurry from sleep. Dean chuckled, however, and just helped her up, whilst Charlie shook Ash awake. He sat up instantly, gripping Charlie’s arm tightly, but she didn’t show any signs of it hurting.

“Got any water?” Ash croaked, and Charlie handed him the half empty water bottle. After that, she turned to Dean.

“I think we should move after we’ve had some rest; we need water,” she told him, and Dean looked towards Jo, who nodded in return.

“We’re running low. We’ll wake you up in a few hours, and then be on our way,” Jo told them. Dean nodded in return, turning towards Ash.

“You cool with this?” he asked, and Ash grinned at Dean, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Sounds great,” he replied as he broke away from Dean and walked towards the entrance, Jo following behind him. Once they had disappeared, Dean sighed roughly, dragging a hand down his face. The adrenaline he’d been running on for the past few hours had crashed, leaving him exhausted. With the confidence that Jo and Ash would be able to protect them, Dean shrugged off his jacket and climbed into the sleeping bag beside Charlie, exhaustion taking over and lulling him into a restful sleep.

-

When Dean awoke, Charlie was already out of the sleeping bag, skinning and gutting the rabbits they’d caught the night before next to a fire. This confused Dean for a while, before Charlie decided to explain.

“I left to get some fire wood- the others were getting hungry,” she told him, and Dean nodded, thankful that they’d taken the survival stalls seriously and thought to ask which woods would give off smoke and which ones wouldn’t. The fire warmed the place considerably, and Dean felt himself sweating through his t-shirt. It was then that he noticed Charlie wasn’t wearing her t-shirt, but just her undershirt. It had previously been a white colour, but it was quickly becoming tainted by dirt and sweat. Dean rolled out of the sleeping bag, shoving it into the backpack, and approached Charlie to help with the rabbits. Beside Charlie there were two long sticks and a knife- she was obviously planning on sharpening them, but at the moment she was busy with the rabbits, and so Dean borrowed a knife from Jo to sharpen points onto the sticks, which were then speared through the rabbits as they cooked over the fire. Eventually the rabbit was cooked, and the four of them sat at the entrance with half a rabbit each.

“So what way are we headed today?” Ash asked before taking a large bite of rabbit. Jo had swallowed her mouthful, leaving her the only one free to talk.

“I’d say continue in the direction we’re going; we might get sponsors along the way, but it’s best not to lay all our hopes with them,” she informed the others. Charlie nodded in agreement, and Dean just shrugged to his indifference.  It was only once they’d finished their meal that they packed up camp and removed any traces that they’d been there the night before. The key, as Jo had said when they were leaving- was to not stay in any place too long; to keep moving- and so that’s what they did. They moved further west, the sun chasing them as the day wore on, before eventually they spotted a river up ahead. All four were highly strung and alert as they approached the water source. Charlie had a bow loaded, Jo was clutching three knives in each hand, and Dean and Ash held their weapons in front of them in a defensive position. Dean shucked off his rucksack and zipped it open as Charlie, Ash, and Jo watched his back. He removed the empty water bottle and made his way cautiously towards the river, dunking the bottle under, watching as it filled up rapidly. He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching them, however, and willed the bottle to fill up even quicker before they were found by the other tributes. As soon as it was full, he hastily added a water purifying tablet and slung the cap on the bottle, shaking it in hopes that it would speed up the process. It was only when there was a canon shot that Dean snapped upright, adrenaline shooting through his veins. In the distance, he saw a figure falling from a tree, and Charlie reloading her bow.

“Position’s been compromised! Let’s split!” Jo called to Dean, who tried to wade his way through the water, only to be caught around his ankle in a death grip. He looked down in shock to see Gabriel grinning, breathing through a bamboo straw, and a knife in his hand. In his struggle to get away, Dean toppled over, still clinging to the water bottle for dear life. Just as he was preparing to feel the pierce of blade in flesh, Gabriel’s weight was removed from on top of him, and scarlet dyed the water that had been fresh not moments ago. A hand heaved him up from underwater and pulled him towards the woods in the opposite direction.

“C’mon Winchester! Get your shit together!” it was Ash’s voice ringing through his ears, and that drew him from his daze.

“Jo-” he tried to choke out, but his unasked question was answered as a dagger whizzed past his left ear, taking out another person that was obviously going to ambush them.

“The river was a trap!” Charlie yelled as they ploughed on through the trees, taking occasional turnings to try and confuse their pursuers. Jo was up ahead, occasionally looking back for enemies, daggers poised in her hand at the ready.

“Who was it?” Dean asked, jogging beside them and leaping over a fallen log whilst Ash decided to slide underneath it in a skilled fashion.

“Gabriel, Kali, and Anna,” he answered, taking a sharp left the Dean only just managed to tail on to. Charlie seemed to have predicted the move and vaulted sideways. Jo and Charlie seemed to have synergy like no other and were practically one person with their instincts.

“Kali and Gabriel teamed up? I would’ve thought that Anna was with the Careers with Kali,” Dean replied as the eventually slowed down, panting for breath. Ash, however, just shrugged, and Charlie barked out a pointed laugh.

“For all the play she puts on, Kali likes Gabriel- well, liked. Nice one, Ash.” Charlie congratulated, slapping Ash on the back. Ash just grinned back and high-fived her for her kill in the trees. Jo rolled her eyes, looking longingly at the set of daggers that was now one short. Dean nodded to her.

“Who did you hit?” he asked, and Jo grimaced.

“Anna- but it was just a shoulder wound,” she told Dean, who sighed in return, ruffling Jo’s hair.

“Well, she’s still wounded; with these conditions, I’ll give her a couple of days before she’s infected and dies,” he told her confidently before turning to Charlie.

“So you got Kali in the trees?” he asked her, and Charlie scoffed.

“Of course not- she’s too much of a goddess to be hiding in somewhere so obvious. Kali may be beautiful, but it doesn’t mean she’s stupid. To be honest I fully thought she was gunna win these Games; but then I met us,” she chuckled. At this, Ash frowned, and Jo grimaced.

“So who was in the tree?” Ash asked, and Charlie sighed, sitting up against a tree and motioning for Dean to hand her the water bottle. He handed it to her carefully, well aware of the blood that was on her hands- both literally and figuratively.

“It was the boy from Six- Garth, I think his name was,” she shrugged, and Dean felt something cold coil in his stomach at that- so far he had avoided killing anyone directly, but the longer he stayed around Ash and Charlie- people that _had_ killed, the less he felt safe- as if they’d wake in the night and cut his throat at the first opportunity. It sort of made him glad that he and Jo had been separated for the shifts. That way he could keep an eye on Charlie and Ash whilst Jo slept, and Jo could watch them whilst Dean slept. It was then that Dean realised how ridiculous he was being- of course Charlie and Ash were doing the same; nobody trusted anyone in the Games- it was just alliances until they died.

“Either way,” Charlie continued, interrupting Dean’s thoughts, “we should set up camp for the night- it’s getting dark,” she suggested, and Jo nodded along with her. And because Jo agreed, Dean couldn’t fight against her. However, he would have to get her on her own at some point to discuss what their plan would be if they, Ash, and Charlie were the only ones left. He refused to dwell on the idea that he and Jo would be facing each other in the end.

-

When the sun rose in the morning, Dean was watching over Jo as she slept, Ash beside him, also keeping watch. Last night’s recap had shown the pictures of Gabriel and Garth, meaning that Anna and Kali were still out there, and so –Dean couldn’t help but think- was Castiel; most likely injured and struggling.

“Y’know, I always wonder what’s going on between you two,” Ash contemplated, startling Dean out of his thoughts- he then eyed the other boy with trepidation. Ash seemed to catch his hesitation, and shook his head in return.

“I mean like, sometimes you’re like brother and sister, and yet sometimes there’s something more,” he elaborated, which made Dean chuckle slightly.

“She’s like the little sister I never wanted,” he joked. It was an inside joke of his and Jo’s, one that Bobby had come up with one drunken night when he referred to the two of them as his ‘bloodless niece and nephew’. It had then caused an argument of the two being related- seeing as Jo was pretty much the female embodiment of Dean (or Dean the male embodiment of Jo- that argument had been going on for a while too). The two of them had been almost joined at the hip since Ellen had started helping Dean and Sam out, and some of the other boys and girls at school had once spread a rumour that they were together, they quickly dispelled that rumour, however, when Dean had been caught kissing a guy behind the town hall building- his name had been Aaron; Dean was dating his sister a week later. Still, there had been stranger things that had happened in District Twelve, so no-one really batted an eye at it. John, however, was quite a traditional man, and Dean hadn’t wanted to upset his father any further than necessary.

“So it’s cool to have a crush on her then?” Ash asked, almost shyly, and Dean’s eyes widened in shock at the fact that one of his enemies was fancying the person he would die to protect.

“What?” he asked, clearly thinking he’d misunderstood. Ash looked around, slightly uncomfortable.

“I just… even if I hadn’t met her under these circumstances, I feel like I would have loved to get to know her better, take her on a date and stuff,” Ash mumbled, and Dean was left practically speechless at what the other boy was saying.

“You mean to tell me that you’re crushing on someone who may have to kill you, because believe me buddy, you ain’t getting’ to her,” Dean growled, and Ash sighed roughly, scratching the back of his head.

“I know the circumstances are messed up-” Ash

“Boy, you’re tellin’ me,” Dean interrupted, and Ash glared at him.

“All I’m saying is, I don’t think I’d be able to hurt Jo even if I wanted to,” he admitted, and it was there that Dean saw the problem, and realisation hit him like a truck.

“It’s why you wanted to be our allies- to protect her,” Dean stated, and Ash sighed, rubbing his temples.

“I knew from the beginning I wouldn’t make it outta here, and when you two came into the picture; lemme tell you, it was like I could finally do something right if I could get one of you two to the final,” Ash admitted, and Dean frowned once more.

“How do you know you’re not going to make it?” he asked, not being able to stop himself, and Ash grimaced, turning to look Dean straight in the eye.

“Because I don’t want to. I’m ill Dean- there ain’t a cure for it, so I’m gunna get as far as I can with this game, and then when my time comes, I’m gunna accept it,” he admitted. Dean’s jaw dropped at the admission, and he felt a wave of admiration for Ash crash over him.

“Then why didn’t you volunteer?” Dean quizzed, and Ash scoffed.

“I’d have rather lived out my last few days in comfort than in an arena of other kids tryin’ to kill me, y’know?” he told Dean with a slight edge of sarcasm to his voice. Dean couldn’t help himself, he snorted with a light laughter, and Ash joined in, clapping Dean on the back. As their laughter subsided, Dean couldn’t help but feel a little bit better. Knowing that Ash wasn’t going to jump him and Jo at any given moment had taken a weight off his shoulders, but he was still slightly weary of Charlie.

“Why did you want to ally with us then? Why not just ally with Charlie and protect her?” Dean asked once more, and Ash sighed, the smile slipping from his face.

“Charlie seems to be under the notion that she can protect me from everything in this arena- she’s trying to keep me alive. When I approached her about allying with you and Jo, she was sceptical at first; but then she realised I wasn’t going to give up on being allies with you, she accepted it,” Ash explained, and Dean nodded along; sure the alliance had made it so that he had more debts to repay, but now that he understood the motives behind it, he felt a bit more comfortable with where they all stood with one another. As Jo and Charlie shifted in the sleeping bag, the two boys couldn’t help but smile slightly at the sight.

It was going to be a long day


End file.
